


Seared into Skin

by Vagabond



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Is Soft, Blow Jobs, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley is a Virgin, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, Rimming, Scenting, a lot of is a giant shrug, aziraphale is an alpha, betas exist and are valid, consent always, crowley is an omega, i'm glad 'slick' isn't an official tag, it probably should be but it isn't, pregnancy is discussed, weird biology but honestly i don't go into a lot of detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:46:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 100,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22470514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vagabond/pseuds/Vagabond
Summary: Anthony Crowley has avoided courtship like the devil, refusing to give into high society's idea that an Omega needs to be married by a certain age until his parents decide to remove his choice. He soon finds himself married off to a gentle, soft-spoken Alpha. Lessons and love ensue and Crowley realizes there's absolutely more to life than what he had been taught.
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 778
Kudos: 1654
Collections: Courts GO Re-Reads, Ixnael’s Recommendations





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uhh hello. Here is an ABO/omegaverse idea I've been kicking around for a while and am finally willing to post since Out of the Darkness is coming to an end. This is the softest kind of ABO. Everything that happens (except the arranged marriage) is consensual and fluffy and full of feeling. I'll do my best to keep up with tags but if there's anything I missed please don't hesitate to point it out!
> 
> Without further ado...

At 22 years of age, Anthony Crowley wasn’t ready to be married. 

It didn’t seem like he had a choice anymore. 

He hid at the bottom of the stairs to the lower floor of his family’s home, peeking around the corner to try and catch a glimpse of his betrothed. All he could see were the tails of a cream colored coat and he didn’t hear voices other than his parents’. If he thought he could get away with running through the scene he would, if only to catch a glimpse of the Alpha he was about to be sold to. 

_“You’re not being sold,” his mother retorted when she broke the news to him. “You’re finally being married, in a good match I might add. This is what omegas do, Anthony. You should have been married far sooner but you decided to chase away every Alpha that showed even a hint of interest.”_

_Crowley bit back a desire to growl. He’d turned down Alphas who weren’t a good match, who wanted him for the wrong reasons. He thought he’d have more time._

_“I could be alone,” he snapped. “Why do I have to get married?”_

_His father, an Omega, gave him a pitying look. “Because, Anthony, Omegas aren’t safe without an Alpha.”_

Bullshit. It was all old fashioned bullshit. He did just fine for himself. He wasn’t weak and could hold his own. But he didn’t have that option anymore. Now he was meant to get married without even meeting the man he would be tied to. He’d bear his children and raise them and warm his bed, but there was no assurance that they would get along. 

There might never be any love. 

He strained in an attempt to hear even a wisp of his bethrothed’s voice, but he heard footsteps coming toward him instead. He scrambled up the stairs and back to his room, shutting the door quietly. 

Crowley hustled over to the window, trying to catch sight of their visitors. All he managed to see was a splash of blonde and a splash of dark hair beneath hats as his betrothed and whoever accompanied him made their way to their carriage. In the city, automobiles were becoming the popular thing, but those in Crowley’s family circle still believed in the efficacy of horses and carriages. 

He watched them disappear down the road, frowning. A knock came on his door a few moments later as his mother stepped inside. 

“Trying to catch a glimpse?” She asked. He didn’t miss the patches on her neck, covering her scent glands. 

“I wouldn’t have to if you would have introduced us.” Crowley leaned his head against the window and frowned at his reflection. 

“We discussed this, Anthony. We can’t take a chance that anything goes wrong between now and your wedding day.” 

What she meant was that she wouldn’t allow him to screw it up like she believed he’d messed up all the others. He was going to be married, whether he liked it or not. It made him sick. 

“You’re acting like it is the end of the world, but this is a good move for us, son. The Fells are an established, respected family. Aziraphale will treat you well.” She didn’t come any closer which was just fine with Crowley who reached up and scratched irritably at the scent patches on his own neck. He hated wearing them, hated walking around with one of his senses dulled, unable to share his scent or receive a scent in return. 

“I would have liked to see that for myself.” He wasn’t convinced that a man willing to essentially buy an Omega with promises would treat anyone well. 

“We all know how that would have gone.” 

Crowley clenched his hands into fists and pulled away from the window, walking to his bed, his _nest_. There were blankets bunched up, a collection of pillows, and hidden from his mother’s sight was a blouse from his sister. He lifted one of the blankets to his face and pressed into his scent, comforted by woodfire and cinnamon. 

“I came to tell you that we’ll have the staff begin to pack your things as soon as possible. The wedding is to be next week.” 

“Next week?” Crowley dropped the blanket and stared at his mother. “So soon?” There really would be no courtship, then. She genuinely intended to marry him off to a stranger. He thought this was all for show, a means to an end, a way to get him to consider courtship. Instead they were going to skip those rituals and send him straight to the marriage bed. 

He wanted to cry, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. There was no point in crying in front of his Alpha mother. 

“And father is okay with this?” He was grasping at straws, out of options. 

“Yes. He is. He agrees with me that the best way to keep you safe is to have you married, and clearly the only way you’ll accept marriage is through force.” 

“I would like to be alone.” Crowley wanted to shift into his nest, bury himself in it. Cry. All of these things required his mother to leave. 

“Anthony…” 

“Please, mother.” 

She sighed, clearly annoyed. “Fine. Have your pity party, but first thing in the morning I’d like you to help direct the staff in packing. And we’ll need to get you scheduled for tailoring. You’ll need a suit. There’s a wedding to prepare for.” 

The resulting week drained the life out of him. His packing was overseen by his mother who decided what he was and wasn’t allowed to take to his new home. 

“Your husband won’t want you to bring pieces of your old nest,” she insisted. “You and he will build a new nest together.” 

“I’m bringing this,” Crowley growled, trying to keep his temper in check. He had one of his blankets clutched to his chest, one that barely had his father’s scent left on it from the last time he’d managed to get him to scent it for him. It was a comfort, one of the few he had. 

“He won’t like it.” 

“Then let him tell me that.” 

His mother gave up on that, but veto’ed a number of other things he wanted to bring. The major conflict came when he stepped into the bathroom and looked for his bottle of suppressants and couldn’t find them. They were meant to suppress his heats, lessen the strain of them. There was no point to a heat without a mate. 

“Mother?” He stepped into her sitting room and she looked up. “My suppressants were moved.” 

“Oh yes, those. You don’t need them anymore.” 

His stomach dropped. “What?” 

“You don’t need them right now. They’ll need to work out of your system anyway.” 

“Why?” He knew why, but he wanted to see if she’d say it to his face. She looked up from her book with a frown. 

“You’ll want to have your next heat.” 

“Because I’ll be married.” 

“Yes, because you’ll be married and you should be with your husband during it.” 

“And if I don’t want to?” He was on the edge of hysterics. His whole life was falling to pieces. His agency had been ripped away from him in a matter of weeks. It made Crowley feel more like a _thing_ to be possessed, no longer a person. “If we don’t want to have children right away?” 

His mother laughed. “Oh darling. Talk to your husband.” 

Crowley couldn’t talk to his husband, could he? He didn’t know the man, the Alpha who he was supposed to marry in a couple of days. Who would be there with him through a heat that would hit in about a month if he wasn’t able to take suppressants, and it would be a terrible one. They always were after suppressing them for so long. 

The thing was, Crowley didn’t want to have children. At least not anytime soon. It was the way of the Omega in high society: get married, have children, raise children, please your Alpha. There was no room for an Omega to have their own hopes and dreams, their own path. It was dictated and he always questioned it, wondered why it had to be that way. Who made the choice? Who decided this was The Way and there could be no other? 

His wedding day came and he allowed himself to be dressed up and loaded into the carriage. His things had already been taken to his new home, supposedly unpacked and waiting for him. He’d slept terribly in his deconstructed nest and tried not to fidget in the carriage as his mother and father talked quietly. 

Oh, he wished he could scent. Wished his father would secretly remove the patches he kept on even in their home and let him be soothed by the smell of lavender. It wasn’t proper though. Scenting was supposed to be an intimate thing, something done between partners in their nest and nowhere else. He knew there were parents that scented their children, that there were places where people were rumored to never wear patches. Sometimes his father bucked tradition for the sake of his son’s comfort and gave him scented items when his mother didn’t know. 

But overall Crowley lived in a scentless world. He wondered what his husband would smell like, if he’d like it, if he’d be allowed to be scented. 

The ceremony was small, only a handful of family on either side along with a priest. He walked down the aisle reluctantly holding his mother’s arm, trying to take in his husband. Aziraphale Fell was dressed in non-traditional creams and browns. He looked to be only a little older than Crowley, with curling blonde hair and a soft face. He was round in all the ways Crowley was long and thin, an opposite and perhaps a compliment. 

Aziraphale smiled kindly as Crowley was left beside the altar across from him. Behind Aziraphale stood the other gentleman who had been with him the day Crowley caught a glimpse of them leaving. His mother had informed him it was Gabriel Fell, Aziraphale’s older brother, and the one who had reached out to arrange the whole thing. 

He didn’t pay much attention during the ceremony. His heart pounded in his chest and the sun on his face made him feel faint. He wanted to run and wondered how far he could get before he was caught and dragged back to this place, property of a stranger. 

The whole thing was mechanical. There was no passion, no love behind either of the vows they recited. They were strangers, and despite Aziraphale’s kind and sympathetic looks Crowley knew what he was in for. His life was over. The priest deemed them married, prayed a blessing over them, and they walked arm in arm down the aisle to the polite claps of their respective families. 

They had a moment alone, a moment of reprieve, when Aziraphale led him into the dressing room. 

“You look like you’re about to pass out, dear boy. Please. Sit.” He led him to a chair and Crowley sat on it, trying to remember to breathe. He was married. He glanced down at his finger and there was a ring on it he didn’t remember putting on. 

A glass of water was pressed into his hands. He took a sip and finally looked up at Aziraphale, noting the genuine concern in his sky blue eyes. 

“Would it help you to be scented?” Aziraphale asked, his hands fluttering nervously like he didn’t know what to do with them. 

“Yes.” Though he’d prefer his father’s familiar lavender to anything else right then, thinking about it made him remember that his father had betrayed him, too. 

He watched as Aziraphale reached up and tore the patches off of his neck, shoving them into a pocket. Crowley inhaled and caught the scent of cocoa and vanilla, his inner Omega crooning with delight as it realized it was an _Alpha’s_ scent, and not just any Alpha but _his_ Alpha. Breathing became a little easier as a sense of ease settled over him. 

“There you are,” Aziraphale murmured with a smile. “You’re looking a bit better already.” 

At least he was kind, Crowley thought. For now, perhaps. There was still later, when they were meant to go back to their marriage bed. He’d heard horror stories about Alphas on their wedding night, their eagerness to take an Omega, to breed them. He closed his eyes and tried to focus instead on the way the scent wrapped around him. 

“I’m afraid we ought to get changed and head to dinner, but I’d like to have a conversation about all of this a little later if you’re amenable.” 

“Of course,” Crowley rasped before he took another drink of water. 

“I also...well.” Aziraphale fidgeted before he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. It was brown and cream tartan and he offered it to Crowley. “It isn’t much of a courtship gift I’ll admit but I’d like for you to have it, as a promise of more to come?” 

Crowley stared at it, then up at Aziraphale. “Oh.” Thoughtful Alpha, kind Alpha. He wanted his stupid primitive brain to shut up. 

He reached up and took it, immediately bringing it to his nose. As he suspected, it smelled like Aziraphale. He nuzzled his face into it without really meaning to and then blushed when he realized what he’d done. Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale who looked shyly delighted. 

“Come now. We ought to get dressed.” 

They did so with their backs turned to each other politely, changing from their formal attire into something a mite more comfortable for the dinner they were hosting. Crowley checked himself in the mirror and then, as a comfort, stuck the courtship gift he’d received in his pocket where he could easily touch it without drawing attention. 

Aziraphale offered him his arm and Crowley didn’t miss the reapplied patches. “Shall we?” 

“Do we have a choice?” 

Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m afraid not.” 

The dinner was held in the dining room of Aziraphale’s estate, which Crowley was seeing on the inside for the first time. It seemed like a cozy enough place, airy without lacking personality. The one thing he noticed on the way into the dining room were the cases of books that seemed to be everywhere. In the hallways, in side rooms, even a small bookcase in the corner of the dining room. 

He glanced curiously at Aziraphale before he was distracted by the guests seated around the table. Aziraphale took the head, Crowley took his right, sitting across from Gabriel. The next seats over were his parents across from one another, then a smattering of close family and friends mostly from Aziraphale’s side of things. Crowley gazed at the soup that was set in front of him and found his appetite lacking. 

Thankfully events like this were formal and shallow. There was no point in dredging up dissatisfaction with the way things had gone, or accusing his parents of selling him. He was married, it was legally binding, and an Omega throwing a fit wouldn’t change a damn thing. He nearly jumped when Aziraphale rested a hand over his and leaned around the corner to murmur in his ear. 

“I promise I’ll try to keep this as short as possible. I won’t let dinner drag on.” He sounded genuine, and his hand was warm. Crowley nodded and Aziraphale pulled back, indulging his brother in a conversation. Beside him, Crowley’s father reached over and squeezed his arm with a sympathetic look. Crowley glared at him and returned to picking at his meal, not missing the way his father’s face fell. 

He’d betrayed him just as much as his mother. His father should have understood. His father, who skirted the rules, who had always been kind, but who hadn’t spoken up when his mother announced his engagement. He should have fought harder. He should have protected him. 

“I need a moment,” Crowley whispered as his throat grew tight and he hated everything around him. The chatter was too much, the weight of his parent’s consideration was stifling, and he didn’t like the smug look on Gabriel’s face. He stood up abruptly from the table with a ‘tsk’ from his mother and let himself out of the room. He walked the hallways, not sure where he was going, wishing he could figure a way _out_. 

“Do you need some air dear?” 

Crowley glanced behind him to find a woman with coppery red hair and a kind, weathered face. She was a Beta. There were no scent patches on her neck, no scent glands at all, and Crowley envied her. What it must be to be one of the average ones, to be born without developing a secondary gender. Life was simpler, he assumed. The tension in his shoulders eased a little around her.

“Yes.” 

“This way, then.” She motioned for him to follow so he did and she led him to French doors that led to a patio. The cool air outside felt good and he slumped into one of the patio chairs. 

“Rough day, love?” 

“That’s an understatement.” Crowley rubbed his hands over his face. “Are you the housekeeper?” 

“Mmhm. That and more. I like to think my main job is to keep Aziraphale from getting lost in his books all day.” 

“Right.” He leaned his head back and gazed up at the sky that had begun to cloud over as evening fell. “Is he kind, your master?” 

“Ha! Yes, very, though don’t let him hear you refer to him as a master. He claims he’s the master of nothing.” 

“He’s the master of this house, though,” Crowley pointed out, frowning. 

“If you want to be proper about it, yes. I’m afraid Aziraphale doesn’t always adhere to what’s proper in your high society world.” 

“And you know who I am?” 

“Aziraphale’s new husband, Anthony Crowley. I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Tracy.” 

“Madame Tracy, then,” Crowley murmured. 

“Oh, if you must.” 

Crowley reached into his pocket and pulled out the handkerchief, pressing it to his nose. The scent of it soothed him, reminded his distressed brain that he was as safe as he could be. He took a few deep breaths and then put it away. 

“They’ll be looking for you love,” Madame Tracy pointed out, voice gentle. “We should get you back inside.” 

“Back to the dog and pony show. I know.” Crowley reluctantly got up and followed her back inside. She led him back to the dining room where he dropped back into his seat and promptly ignored concerned looks from both his parents. He didn’t ignore the look from Aziraphale, his new husband offering him a soft smile. Crowley half-smiled in return though it was brittle and returned to dinner. 

There were toasts toward the end, Gabriel toasting his brother and Crowley’s mother toasting him. It was all a bunch of Alpha blustering, both of them beyond pleased with themselves for conspiring on the match. 

Dessert was last, then Aziraphale and Crowley stood and said farewell to the guests not staying the night. The only ones who would stay were Gabriel and Crowley’s parents before they’d make the short journey back to their respective homes. After, Crowley’s mother pulled him aside. 

“Your public duty is done,” she said with pride in her voice that made him sick. “Now you should be off to bed, hm?” 

“Right.” He pulled away from her and heard her sigh. 

“You’ll see, Crowley. One day you’ll thank me for this, you know. It isn’t as if I’ve married you off to some terrible tyrant.” 

“No,” Crowley replied as he turned and stared at her. “Maybe not. But you’ve stolen my autonomy from me and sent me off with a stranger. I’m half tempted to ask my new husband to kick you and father out on your asses, but I think he’s too polite for that.” He turned away and started walking toward the stairs, still no clue where he was going. He just wanted to get away from her. 

“I’ll not have you make me out to be a terrible mother!” She called out after him. “That isn’t fair!” 

There was nothing else to say. Crowley ascended the stairs into the darkness of the evening, prowling the halls. He eventually stepped into a room that appeared to be a small library. He drew his fingertips over the spines as he walked along the stacks, trying to rein his emotions in. Reaching up with his free hand he scratched at his patches, uncomfortable, frustrated. 

“I see you’ve found my favorite room.” 

He spun around and found Aziraphale standing just inside the doorway, hands behind his back, a kind smile on his face. “The full library is downstairs, of course. This is my personal collection.” 

“You like books, then.” Crowley looked back at the titles. 

“I do. There’s a lot to be gained from literature. Do you read much?” 

“Not unless I’m forced.” Crowley wasn’t a fan of reading, sometimes he had trouble following small text. Other times, words seemed to be jumbled. It made the whole process unpleasant so he didn’t bother with it. 

“Do you like being read to?” 

Crowley considered it and then shrugged, turning to walk back toward Aziraphale who stood in the same place as he had been when he first entered. “Can’t say I remember being read to much beyond stories as a child.” 

“Perhaps I’ll read to you sometime, if you’d like.” Aziraphale watched him approach, uncertainty in the knit of his brow. “Would you like to take your patches off?” 

Crowley frowned. “I don’t know. I usually always wear them unless I’m going to bed.” 

“Oh.” Aziraphale mirrored his frown. “Well, once the company is gone you’re welcome to wear them or not wear them as you see fit, wherever you are in the house. I don’t wear mine unless it is expected of me.” 

“Really?” That piqued Crowley’s curiosity. He’d always thought wearing the patches was counter intuitive. How was he supposed to know how others were feeling? How was he supposed to soothe or be soothed when his scent was hidden away? It made things far more difficult to navigate at times and the thought of being free in his own household was appealing. 

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale’s frown shifted into a pleased smile. “I’m not a fan of our high society rules in general, if I’m honest.” 

Crowley reached up and immediately ripped off the patches, sighing in relief as he found his own scent comforting. It was a piece of himself that he could share with the world and he hated hiding it away. Aziraphale’s whole expression softened as he stepped closer, reaching up to remove his patches. 

“Campfire and spice,” Aziraphale murmured thoughtfully. 

“You’re cocoa and vanilla.” 

“Oh? Madame Tracy says I smell like warm hot chocolate to her.” 

“She’s a Beta,” Crowley pointed out. “How does she know?” 

“Do you think Betas don’t have noses my dear?” Aziraphale chuckled. “They might not be impacted by it like we are, but they can still smell us. Difficult not to, I imagine.” 

“I guess that makes sense. My household never employed any.” 

“Really?” 

“Only Omegas. All patched, too. My mother insisted on it.” 

“Your mother sounds delightful.” 

Crowley snorted at Aziraphale’s tone. “Yes, well, you met her.”

“I wish this could have all gone differently, you know.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“I insisted to my brother I ought to court you properly, that we shouldn’t be forced into such a quick marriage. Even a short engagement would have been enough. It feels...well. Wrong that I didn’t get a chance to win you over.” Aziraphale glanced down and then back up into Crowley’s eyes. “I hope I get a chance to make it up to you.” 

“Oh.” Crowley blushed, face warm. He’d never had an Alpha express that all so plainly before. Most preferred to play the games of courtship, showing interest without stating it. Aziraphale on the other hand had come straight out with it and it made Crowley’s Omega purr with delight. He wanted to be won, wanted to be wooed. 

“Come on, we ought to be to bed. I’ll show you where the bedroom is and then I must make sure my brother isn’t poking around before I join you.” He led him down the hallway and through a door into a large bedroom. There was a chaise lounge near the window with a bookcase beside it, a large bed with an ornate wooden headboard, an armoire, a chest of drawers, and a large mirror. 

Off of the bedroom appeared to be a small washroom. The whole thing was only slightly smaller than Crowley’s parent’s bedroom and it smelled distinctly like Aziraphale. 

“Make yourself at home. There should be pajamas for you in the drawers over there,” he pointed. “I’ll be back shortly.” He left. 

Crowley walked around the room and then walked over to the window, peering out into the sprawling back garden. The bedroom was lit by an oil lamp on a table near the bed, the flame flickering. It was warm, a wood stove going in the corner keeping it such, and Crowley went to sit on the edge of the bed that faced it. 

What was he supposed to do then? Part of him wondered if he ought to strip and present himself to his new husband for the taking. He’d never had sex before, never saw the need or the point in taking the risk. Nor had he ever been interested in someone. He’d touched himself of course, but he imagined sex was something much more than that. 

His stomach twisted in knots at the thought of having it that night with a stranger. Even Aziraphale’s scent couldn’t soothe him. It was an Alpha scent, and a pleasant one at that, but Crowley’s brain still began to dissolve into panic. He had to do his private duty, which was what his mother had alluded to earlier. It hardly seemed fair. 

Aziraphale found him like that, arms wrapped around his waist. 

“Oh, my dear, whatever is the matter? Did they not unpack your pajamas?” Aziraphale walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, his nose wrinkled. “You’re distressed. What’s wrong?” 

“I’ve never had sex before,” Crowley stuttered out. “And I...I know we _have_ to but I don’t. I -” he wasn’t sure what else to say. _I don’t want to have it with you_ and _I don’t want to be fucked by a stranger_ both seemed like the wrong thing to say to his newly minted husband. It was his duty, but why did it have to be this way? Why were Omegas expected to do this? Why was it acceptable? 

“That’s what is worrying you.” Aziraphale rested a hand against the nape of his neck and leaned in to nuzzle at Crowley’s temple, scenting him. The smell was stronger and far more soothing when it came from Aziraphale who seemed so calm in the face of Crowley’s distress. He leaned into it. “My dear, we’ll not do anything until you’re ready.” 

“What?” Crowley looked at him and Aziraphale shrugged, reaching up to brush some of Crowley’s hair out of his face. 

“You’re my husband,” Aziraphale pointed out. “And in those vows, I vowed to protect you and keep you. Taking you by force breaks those, does it not?” 

Crowley blinked. Admittedly he’d been panicking during the vows, but he never thought about them that seriously. 

“We can talk about it, of course. I’m open to discussing it with you, answering questions. While you may lack experience I do not, though that’s not to say I have a lot. I have had a couple previous partners, but whatever you and I figure out we’ll figure out together.” 

The knots in Crowley’s stomach loosened some. They didn’t have to have sex. They might share a bed, but he wasn’t going to be forced into anything. 

“Thank you,” Crowley whispered, reaching for Aziraphale’s hand and holding it between both of his. Aziraphale smiled. 

“No need to thank me for being decent, Anthony.” 

“Crowley,” Crowley corrected. “I prefer my surname, if that’s alright.” 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale nodded. “Perfect. Now, would you like to get into your pajamas so we might get some rest?” 

They changed into their respective pajamas and got under the blankets. Aziraphale’s bed was soft and the blankets warm. Crowley snuggled in, nuzzling into a pillow that smelled like Aziraphale. He was surrounded by the Alpha’s scent and a sleepy part of his brain pointed out that his scent was missing, that it should be just as deeply embedded in the blankets and pillows as Aziraphale’s was. 

“Tomorrow I’ll show you your room,” Aziraphale murmured. “There’s a space just for you, for now. I thought you might be more comfortable that way while we get to know each other.” 

Crowley’s Omega howled in distaste at the thought of being pulled from its Alpha’s warm bed and scented sheets. But his rational mind was soothed by it, even if he felt a little bit like he had failed some sort of test. It was a hard line to ride, one that separated his quiet yearning from his belief that he ought to know the man more before jumping into bed with him. 

Aziraphale was being kind and thoughtful, but Crowley wondered if he was worth the trouble. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday assuming I can keep up with the pace!
> 
> Come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/). I don't bite, I swear.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley adjusts to his new home and new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Hello my loves! And thank you to everyone who has jumped into this story. I'm excited to share it with you, and so glad to see so many familiar faces in the comments! I know Omegaverse isn't everyone's cup of tea so I'm chuffed that people are trusting me to write a good story with it! I hope I don't let anyone down.
> 
> Shoutout to my beta Kazeetie, and my other beta Pamelam for taking a look at this fic before I decided to post it. All my love to my bud SummerStarted who has read the draft up to chapter 7 and gave me some really good structural feedback. Fanfic writing has become a community endeavor and I'm so glad to have this group of folks helping me along!

The room Aziraphale had set up for Crowley was more than generous. It was also on the other side of the house from Aziraphale’s. Crowley wasn’t sure how to feel about it. One part of him was relieved. He’d have his own space, a place to make a nest, one he didn’t have to share with a stranger. The other part of him, a primal part, accused him of pushing yet another Alpha away. It was worse because this Alpha was kind and smart and smelled very nice, and was considerate enough to even offer Crowley his own space. 

Why that made him want to crash harder into the Alpha, Crowley would never know. He accepted the room with gratitude, impressed that it didn’t smell like Aziraphale. The large windows that let in the light from outside had been opened and the room smelled crisp, clean. It was a blank canvas waiting for Crowley to make it his own. 

“I hope it is alright?” Aziraphale said from the doorway as Crowley stood in the middle of the room and took it all in. He glanced over at him. 

“More than. Thank you.” 

“Oh, not a problem. There are many rooms to choose from, but I like this one best because it gets the most natural lighting.” 

Perhaps if his Alpha liked the room enough he would come join him sometime. Crowley immediately banished the traitorous thought, annoyed that his hindbrain was so damn active. Hormones were stupid. 

“I went to the liberty of having your things unpacked. If anything is missing please don’t hesitate to let me or Madame Tracy know so we can try to track them down.” Aziraphale fidgeted in the doorway. “Please know that you’re not obligated to anything in this house. I want it to be yours as much as mine, and I want you to be comfortable. I take my meals downstairs but you’re welcome to set your own schedule, just let Madame Tracy know so she can inform the kitchen staff. The grounds are yours, the libraries are yours. Consider this home.” 

Home. Crowley wasn’t sure about all of that, but he’d try. “Thank you.” 

“Not at all, dear boy. I hope this isn’t too painful for you.” Aziraphale ducked his head and took a step back. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

And he did. Just like that, Aziraphale’s footsteps disappeared down the hall and Crowley was left in his new room. He immediately shut the door and then went into the trunk at the foot of the bed, digging through blankets to find the one he wanted. Once it was in his grasp he pressed it to his nose, inhaling the faint but familiar scent of lavender. 

Somehow it wasn’t nearly as comforting as the smell of cocoa. 

It took a while for Crowley to set up his room the way he liked it, starting with closing the windows so he could begin to fill the space with his own scent. Any good nest needed to smell like its occupant and Crowley wouldn’t be satisfied until the walls themselves held the smell of burning wood and cinnamon. 

He tested the bed, sitting first and then sprawling out over it. It was just as soft and comfortable as Aziraphale’s had been, better than his old hand-me-down mattress back home. The blankets were soft, a well worn quilt laid atop of it all, and he added his blanket bunched up near the pillows. 

From his clothes the previous night he dug out the handkerchief and sniffed it, humming, delighted by the scent of chocolate and vanilla. It was stashed in his bed, too, tucked into the case of one of his pillows. 

Crowley got back into the trunk and pulled a few decorative pillows from it. One had a duck embroidered on it, a handsome mallard, that he tossed onto the bed. The other was soft with dark red and black fabric. It joined its companion on the bed and Crowley rearranged them until he could comfortably snuggle down into the mess. 

It was progress. His mother hadn’t allowed him too many items from his old nest so he would have to keep an eye out for other comforts to add to it. For the moment, what he had would do. For good measure, he snuggled into the bed and scented the blankets and pillows, nuzzling his cheek and jaw against them until they smelled like him. 

Once he was content with his effort he curled up and gazed out the window at a clear, cloudless blue sky. It was the first time in over a week he had a moment to stop and think. He was married to an Alpha who stayed in another room, living in an estate that was strange to him. What was he supposed to do? What came next? He hadn’t thought that far, had believed more misery was waiting for him after marriage. He hadn’t expected this, the freedom Aziraphale offered him. 

What was he supposed to do with that freedom? 

He curled around his duck pillow and pulled the tartan handkerchief out of his pillowcase, nuzzling his face against it. With his scent and Aziraphale’s mingled together, he closed his eyes and decided to sleep. 

That became the norm over the next few days, uncertainty driving him back to his nest and into the warm embrace of sleep. He would eat sometimes, slipping downstairs to nibble on whatever the kitchen had leftover from meals. Madame Tracy checked in on him from time to time to make sure he had everything he needed, but unless he sought him out, he didn’t see Aziraphale. 

And he didn’t seek him out. There wasn’t any point. 

Crowley began to wonder if something was wrong with him when one day, after sleeping until dark, he found himself reluctant to leave his nest. He could go back to sleep. He was comfortable and warm enough in his bed, in his nest, to fall right back asleep. But it seemed dangerous, the temptation carrying an edge to it that promised despair would follow.

He forced himself out of his bed and changed out of his pajamas into something a little more presentable around the house. He slipped out of his room into the hallway and sought out Madame Tracy. She was in an upstairs reading room engrossed in looking through what appeared to be a deck of tarot cards when he cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“Hello Crowley.” Her smile was warm and genuine which was startling to Crowley. “Everything alright, love?” 

“I, er, wondered where Aziraphale might be?” 

“Ah, likely in the downstairs library. He was organizing some of the books. Did you need something?” 

“No.” He answered quickly before pausing to think. “I might...like a bath later, if that’s alright?” 

Madame Tracy’s face lit up. “Of course! I’ll have one drawn for you whenever you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” Crowley nodded and then left, heading down the stairs. He made his way downstairs and down another hallway until he came upon the library. It was lit with a couple of lamps. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale seemed to materialize from between the stacks, looking rather surprised. “It is good to see you.” 

It was strange to think this man was his  _ husband _ . He hadn’t seen him in days. His Omega howled in distress at that and he shoved it down, refusing to acknowledge his pain. At least he was there now, with Aziraphale within scenting distance, close enough to indulge without pressing too far. 

He realized too late that Aziraphale caught on to something being off and approached Crowley slowly, as if he were a wounded animal. 

“I was worried you weren’t feeling well, since I hadn’t seen you.” Aziraphale was close enough to reach out but hesitated. Crowley matched his hesitation. His Omega continued to howl. 

“You could have checked in.” 

“I didn’t want to press in case you needed space, but you’re right.” Aziraphale finally reached out and rested a hand against his arm. “I suppose I’ve not been much of a husband.” 

Crowley shuddered and hesitantly stepped closer, enough that he could brush his nose lightly along the underside of Aziraphale’s jaw and inhale. It was better than the handkerchief and soothed the storm in his chest. How had he gone so long without being scented like this? The renewed desire must have something to do with being alone in a house with an Alpha he wasn’t related to. 

Stupid primal brain. Stupid warm Alpha squeezing his arm and pulling him closer with a soft, rumbling growl. 

“If you’d like,” Aziraphale murmured, voice such a soft contrast to the gentle rumble in his chest, “I could read to you for a little while.” 

“Yeah, alright.” Crowley rubbed his cheek along the underside of Aziraphale’s jaw, well aware that it meant Aziraphale’s scent would be seared onto his skin. The Alpha didn’t seem to mind. 

“Come then, there’s a couch in the back.” Aziraphale’s hand slipped down to Crowley’s lower back as he led him through the bookshelves to the back and motioned for him to sit. He did, settling into the corner as Aziraphale disappeared, likely to retrieve a book. When he returned he not only had a book, but a blanket. He draped the blanket over Crowley. 

Crowley pulled it up to his nose and sighed, nuzzling into the soft fabric and the warm smell of cocoa and vanilla. He settled in as Aziraphale took a seat on the other side of the couch. 

“I thought you might enjoy this. It is called  _ Jane Eyre _ . Have you heard of it?” 

“No.” Crowley shrugged. “Go on, then.” 

Aziraphale read to him, his voice steady and warm. Crowley peeked over the edge of the blanket to watch him, admiring the way Aziraphale’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled around his words. He was handsome, at least. His curls were short and looked soft, so different from Crowley’s longer hair. His mother had fussed at him for keeping it long but he preferred it that way. 

He wondered distantly if Aziraphale would braid it for him sometime. Crowley chased that thought away with a broom, shaking his head as he tried to focus back on the reading. It was easy enough, Aziraphale’s voice captivating and dynamic. He closed his eyes and listened. 

“Ah, sorry to interrupt.” Crowley was stirred from his doze by Madame Tracy’s voice. He looked up, Aziraphale had stopped reading. 

“No problem at all,” Aziraphale insisted with a smile. 

“I wanted to check in on you, Crowley, before I went to bed. Did you still want a bath to be drawn?” 

“Oh.” Right. A bath. He huffed and nodded. “Yes, please.” He stood with the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. 

“Excellent, I’ll be off to see to that, then.” She was gone and Aziraphale looked at Crowley before he stood, too, setting the book aside gently. 

“I’d like to read to you again sometime, if you’d have it.” Aziraphale fidgeted. “If you’d like.” 

“I think I would.” Crowley hugged the blanket closer around his shoulders. “And perhaps...we could have breakfast tomorrow.” 

“I would like that very much. Goodnight, Crowley. I hope you sleep well.” 

“Thank you. You too.” Crowley gave Aziraphale a lingering look before he left the room, the blanket still clutched around him. He made his way upstairs and tucked the blanket away in his nest before he went to the bathroom where the tub had been filled. 

He soaked for the first time in days, the grime and desperation washed away as he closed his eyes and basked in the warmth. Later, when he was clean and dry, he didn’t bother putting on anything other than underwear as he crawled back into his nest and buried himself in it. He tugged the blanket he’d absconded with around him, the fabric soft and luxurious against his skin. 

The fact it also smelled like the Alpha was a bonus as he tucked his nose in and drifted into an easy sleep. 

He got up with the sun the next morning, changing into appropriate clothes before he made his way down into the dining room. Aziraphale was already awake and sitting at the table, reading through a newspaper as he sipped tea. Crowley dropped into the seat beside him and a servant appeared. 

“Aye, what’ll yew be havin’ boy?” The servant in question was an older Alpha, a gentleman with a scruffy gray beard and hair. He also had a heavy Scottish accent he tried to enunciate around. He hardly looked like a servant. 

“Coffee, if you have it.” 

“Aye. What else?” 

“Er. I’m not picky?” Crowley wasn’t sure what to ask for. He’d always eaten what he was given, and sparingly at that. 

The servant grumbled under his breath, something about indecisive high falutin’ lads as he turned and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. Crowley glanced over Aziraphale who watched him from behind his newspaper. 

“That’s the Sergeant, Shadwell. He does a bit of everything around here, including the gardening.” Aziraphale chuckled. “I like to keep a small staff, and he and Madame Tracy have been with my family since I was a boy. They came here with me when I moved out of the main estate.” 

“Seems like a charmer.” Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“You’ll warm to him. Or you won’t. Hard to tell with Shadwell. I will tell you this, he’s not-so-secretly head over heels for Madame Tracy despite his gruff demeanor.” 

“No.” Crowley shook his head. “No way someone as lovely as her entertains the likes of that.” 

“Come on now, you hardly know him. Give it time.” 

“Hmph.” Crowley wasn’t so sure about that, but he did accept his coffee when Shadwell returned and took a look at the menagerie of pastries he’d been brought. 

“Oatmeal is comin’,” Shadwell groused. “Brown sugar?” 

“Sure,” Crowley drawled. “Perhaps you could bring the bowl out here?” 

“Fine, fine.” Shadwell turned and ambled off again as Crowley took a sip of his coffee. He nabbed a croissant from the plate and tore off a piece, popping it into his mouth. 

“How did you sleep?” Aziraphale asked, putting down the newspaper. 

“Alright.” 

“Good. And your bath?” 

Crowley snorted. “It was fine.” 

“Just trying to make conversation.” Aziraphale fussed with folding his newspaper. Crowley could smell him where he sat and the scent partnered nicely with his coffee. Shadwell returned a few moments later with a tray holding two bowls of steaming oatmeal and a smaller bowl of brown sugar. He left them on the table with a grunt and disappeared. 

“You don’t have to force it,” Crowley pointed out. “Had a lot of silent breakfasts with my parents.” 

“I’d rather not continue that pattern if I can help it.” Aziraphale spooned brown sugar into his bowl and stirred it in. “Is there anything you’d like to do today? Anything you’d like to see? I could give you a proper tour of the house now that you’re a bit more settled.” 

“Sure.” It would be better than giving into the temptation to crawl back into his nest and stay there forever. They ate a quiet breakfast and went their separate ways to get ready for the day before there was a knock on Crowley’s door. He opened it and found Aziraphale politely standing there, dressed in a suit of cream and brown, donning a bowtie. 

He looked a bit ridiculous, but Crowley sort of liked it. 

“Shall we?” Aziraphale offered him his arm and Crowley took it. 

“We shall,” Crowley replied with a silly grin, feeling a little lighter for it. He allowed Aziraphale to lead him through the house, pointing out rooms and explaining their purposes. There were a number of empty rooms which Aziraphale offered to Crowley to do with as he pleased. 

“Do you have hobbies?” Aziraphale asked as they made their way downstairs. 

“Not really. I kept some house plants back home.” Plants he hadn’t been allowed to bring with him. Plants his mother said were better left to gardeners. His face fell and Aziraphale frowned. 

“Well you’d be more than welcome to keep them here if you’d like. I know a nursery in a nearby village that might be perfect for it. I don’t know the first thing about plants and I’m not sure Shadwell knows much either truth be told. He does keep the garden looking trim at least.” 

“I’d like that.” He missed his plants. If nothing else they provided a listening leaf whenever he’d had a rough day, and there was something to be said for tending to them. 

“One of the empty rooms had some nice light if you were inclined to make it a plant room.” 

“I don’t know that you want to be spending all your money on plants,” Crowley countered. 

“If it would make you happy I rather think I would.” 

Crowley ducked his head as his cheeks heated. “Oh.” 

Aziraphale huffed. “You’re my husband, you know. I may not have had a chance to properly court you but I’m going to try to make up for that. If you want plants, I’ll buy out the nursery. I’ll fill all my rooms with them.” 

Crowley shivered and leaned into Aziraphale. He sounded so earnest, like he’d really do it if Crowley asked it of him. He’d never experienced that before. Shyly, he pulled Aziraphale to a stop and leaned in to nuzzle along his jaw and then rubbed against him, anointing his skin with his scent. It was alright, wasn’t it? They were married. 

It drew another rumbling, pleased growl from Aziraphale who returned the nuzzle. It was one of the simplest exchanges of affection two people like them could indulge in, but it felt like everything to Crowley. They continued walking, Crowley’s body on fire with embarrassment while Aziraphale smiled beside him. 

Aziraphale rushed through the tour of the first floor in order to tug Crowley out into the garden and onto the grounds. Crowley had to admit, the grounds were beautiful. There were trimmed bushes that lined some of the walking paths and edged the outer boundaries of the property. There were large oak trees that provided shade and would be lovely during spring and summer. 

“This doesn’t look like much now,” Aziraphale explained as he led Crowley toward an expanse of bushes. “But this is an azalea garden my parents kept. It is gorgeous in the spring when everything blooms. There’s so many different colors.” 

Crowley reached out and ran his fingertips over the leaves, trying to picture pinks and oranges, peaches and reds. Aziraphale was right, this space would be heavenly in spring and he’d have a chance to see it. It brought him some measure of peace to be outside in the cold air, surrounded by plants that would bloom. They all just needed to get through the winter. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked softly. 

“Quite.” Crowley glanced over at him and found earnest concern in his eyes. “Just thinking about winter.” 

“I’ll do my best to keep you warm.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley into his side and Crowley huffed a laugh at that line. 

“Cheesy.” 

“Yes, well.” It was Aziraphale’s turn to blush. “I’m not...particularly good at courtship.” 

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Crowley leaned into him. Aziraphale was warm and solid and he closed his eyes briefly, breathing slowly in and out. They stayed like that for a few long minutes before Aziraphale nudged him. 

“Come on, we should get back inside. We can continue reading Jane Eyre.” 

The days that followed were filled with quiet conversations and a lot of reading. It seemed to be the easiest way for the pair of them to relate. Aziraphale liked to read and Crowley liked listening to him read, particularly when he was wrapped in a blanket and could doze whenever he liked. They took meals together, too, and Crowley returned to eating regularly if still sparsely. 

It became comfortable, and a week later he was greeted at breakfast with good news. 

“I thought we could go to the nursery today, see what catches your eye.” Aziraphale smiled. 

“Oh.” He sat down to coffee already waiting and grabbed a few grapes off a plate of fruit on the table. “Excellent.” 

“Do you know how to ride?” 

“Horses?” Crowley paled. “In theory.” 

“Oh?” 

“Horses and I don’t...really get along honestly. I had lessons growing up but I was always getting bitten and the horses never wanted to listen to me. The only friend I ever made in that regard was an old pony and even she barely tolerated me, and only because I always brought treats.” He sighed. “I’m quite rubbish at it.” 

“Then you can ride with me, hm? I’ve got a lovely gelding I picked up from a farmer liquidating his livestock. He’s a gentle thing.” 

“You say that, but the moment he sees me, he'll probably become a terror.” 

“Hardly.” 

“You don’t believe me now but you’ll see.” Crowley shrugged and popped a grape into his mouth. “Horses hate me.” 

The gelding, Archie, didn’t hate him. Not outrightly, anyway, since Aziraphale was right there. Archie definitely gave Crowley skeptical looks though and he returned them until Aziraphale gently whacked his upper arm and told him to stop eyeing the horse like that. 

He was helped up onto the horse before Aziraphale joined him, sitting behind him. It was possibly the closest he’d been to him outside of sharing a bed and he was stiff at first. Clearly Aziraphale took it as nerves about the horse. 

“I promise, I won’t let him buck you off. He’s well behaved when I’ve got the reins.” 

“Right.” Crowley settled back against Aziraphale’s chest, hands resting on the horn of the saddle. He did his best to relax as Aziraphale led them onto the road and in the direction of the village. The ride wasn’t terrible, though Crowley was a bit stiff getting off and nearly tripped once his feet hit the ground. Aziraphale chuckled as he tied up the horse and Crowley took a chance to look around. 

He spotted a few other noble-types and realized he’d forgotten his patches. His hands flew up to his neck in a mild panic. “Aziraphale, we forgot patches.” 

Aziraphale approached and put a hand on Crowley’s back between his shoulder blades. “You know, we’re not required to wear them. Most people in this village don’t.” 

“What?” Crowley looked over at him. “Really?” 

“Yes. Come on. If it becomes too much we can always leave.” He began to lead Crowley toward the nursery. Outside the scents weren’t particularly strong or noticeable, the air cold and smelling distinctly like snowfall was approaching. Inside the nursery was a different story. Near the back, looking at some hanging ivy planters was an Alpha and Omega couple, both patchless. It was difficult to tell in the space which scent was whose, but Crowley could make out the sharp tang of raspberries and the far mellower scent of warm yeast rolls. 

They were calm, he could tell it from their scents, and it surprised him. It must have been reflected in his own scent because the Alpha glanced over with a momentarily concerned look before he noticed Aziraphale and gave a nod. Aziraphale nodded back and stepped closer to Crowley so that the smell of cocoa and vanilla overpowered the others. 

He melted a little into Aziraphale with a hum. His scent was better than either of the others. 

“I’ll take your recommendations on plants,” Aziraphale pointed out. “I’m a bit lost.” 

“Right.” Scents aside, Crowley focused on how Aziraphale smelled and began to lead him around the nursery, pointing out different plants that might do well in the room. Aziraphale indulged him, asking which plants they should purchase. By the end of it they had four or five plants of varying sizes and types marked for sale and Aziraphale happily paid for them to be delivered to the estate. 

Crowley peered at a spider plant in a little pot and reached up to touch the leaves. He picked it up and looked it over. Some of the leaves were drooping, but it was otherwise a fine plant. 

“We’ll take that one too,” he heard Aziraphale say at the counter. “But we’ll bring it with us today.” 

Crowley ducked down toward the leaves of the plant and whispered, “he’ll be kind to you, but I won’t. You’re going to grow better or else we’ll have words.” 

He was ushered out of the shop eventually and Aziraphale insisted on stopping at a small bookshop that smelled heavily of leather and glue. It was difficult to determine what smells were due to the books and which ones were due to the older proprietor, an Alpha who greeted Aziraphale fondly. 

Crowley pawed through some books about gardening while Aziraphale and the bookshop owner talked. The scent of the shop wasn’t terribly comforting and he was tempted to slip up next to Aziraphale and lose himself in his scent for a while. His Omega liked the sound of that and he grumbled to himself about his stupid primitive brain again. 

“Would you like that?” Aziraphale startled him from behind and he heard him chuckle. 

“What?” 

“The book you’re holding.” 

It was a book on indoor plant keeping. He had a feeling he knew most of what was in it, but the pictures were nice to look at. It would be the kind of book he could keep in a room with his plants to threaten them with their failure to live up to perfection. He nodded. 

“I would.” 

“May I buy it for you?” 

“Yes.” Crowley turned and pressed the book in Aziraphale’s hand. “You may, but only as a courting gift.” He swallowed and looked away. 

Aziraphale growled and brushed his nose against Crowley’s temple. “Yes.” 

“Good.” 

They parted, Aziraphale going to the front to pay while Crowley distracted himself with switching the order of a few of the alphabetized books. Eventually Aziraphale came to collect him, the book tucked under his arm. In his other hand was a fabric bag that contained the spider plant he’d purchased for Crowley. 

Another courting gift, perhaps. So many gifts from his Alpha. 

“Perhaps we should be off, unless you had anything else you wanted to see in the village?” 

“No, we can go back.” Crowley bullied the bag with the plant away from Aziraphale as they made their way back to the horse. He got on first, cradling his plant to his chest with one arm while the other rested back on the horn of the saddle. Aziraphale had tucked the purchased book into his satchel and got on the horse behind him. 

He settled back into Aziraphale’s chest more readily this time and they headed back to the estate. 

Crowley headed up to his bedroom with his plant while Aziraphale dealt with stabling the horse, slipping inside to walk over to the window sill. He placed the spider plant pot there, pleased with it in his space. He touched the leaves reverently before he headed out of his room and back downstairs, finding Aziraphale there removing his boots. 

“I believe this is yours,” Aziraphale said after his boots were off. He held out the book. “A gift.” 

“A gift.” Crowley took it and ran his hand over the cover before he looked at Aziraphale. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth. His Alpha made a pleased sound and then rested a warm hand against his cheek to hold him there, turning his head to brush their lips together properly. 

Crowley made a noise in the back of his throat, heat rising in his face as he pressed harder into the kiss. Aziraphale took the book gently from his hands and tossed it to the couch so he could pull Crowley closer, deepening the kiss. Crowley had never kissed anyone like that before, his lips parting beneath Aziraphale’s wet tongue. He keened and curled his fingers in the fabric of Aziraphale’s jacket. 

“Alright?” Aziraphale murmured against his lips. 

“Yeah.” Crowley was drunk on the sensation and Aziraphale’s scent which surrounded them, cozy and comfortable. “Mmph. I’ve never kissed like that before.” 

“Never?” Aziraphale sounded surprised. He stroked his thumb over Crowley’s cheekbone. “But you liked it?” 

“Mmhm.” Crowley leaned in to press their lips chastely together again. Was kissing his husband supposed to feel so electric? He hadn’t thought anything could be so nice when it involved someone else. 

“Then we have a lot to experience together, eventually.” Aziraphale smiled and kissed Crowley’s nose. “For now, we ought to get ready for dinner.” 

“Mm. Yeah. Dinner.” Crowley instead leaned forward and buried his burning red face in Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale rested a hand against the back of his neck, firm and reassuring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday!
> 
> Come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley deals with a painful heat and over time gets to know Aziraphale better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your lovely comments and excitement about this story C: This is my first foray into a long omegaverse fic, so I'm glad people are enjoying it!!
> 
> One day we might get to have a fun, sexy heat. This is not that day.

It was going to be a bad week. Crowley could tell the moment he was awake and woozy, his guts cramping. He buried his face in his pillow and tried to fight back tears. His heat was going to start in the next day or so and his body was already preparing. After so many years spent avoiding them, the thought of going through one again was terrifying. 

There was no fighting it this time. Even if he got his hands on suppressants there was no way to stop the process. He whimpered as a wave of nausea came over him that had him dashing for the washroom in the hallway. He dropped onto his knees and vomited in a bucket under the sink, the only thing he was able to get to in time.

When he’d emptied his stomach he started to sob, gripping the rough edges of the wooden bucket to try and ground himself. It was already terrible and it hadn’t even really started. Had they always been this terrible, or was this the effect of taking suppressants for so long? 

“Crowley, dear?” Madame Tracy’s voice came from the door as she pushed it open. “Oh goodness. You poor thing.” 

She helped him up off the floor and led him to sit on the lip of the tub before she grabbed a wet cloth and wiped it over his face. He continued to sniffle, trying to ignore the new tears that sprang up in his eyes in response to the pain in his hips. 

“Do you think you ate something that didn’t agree with you?” Madame Tracy asked quietly as she wiped away the tears that spilled down his face. 

“No. S’heat.” His shoulders shook with another terrified sob, his body hot and uncomfortable. 

“Shh now, love, shh.” Madame Tracy embraced him and he pressed his face against her stomach as he cried, gripping hard onto her skirts as another cramp hit. “We’ll get you through it, alright? Make sure you stay comfortable.” 

Crowley was led back to his room once the worst of the nausea subsided. Aziraphale waited outside the door and looked deeply concerned, unable to stand still. His eyes roamed over Crowley as if he were looking for some sort of open and obvious wound. If only it were that easy, Crowley thought. Slap a bandaid on and call it a day. Instead, he’d be down for the count for at least three days, if not closer to five. 

He swallowed around another round of tears. 

“You’re going into heat,” Aziraphale murmured. He’d be able to smell it on him, even this early. Even before it fully set in. There was a strange, conflicted look on Aziraphale’s face. Crowley nearly asked him to stay with him for it, to take him, to help him lessen the symptoms by being there and being with him. But they weren’t there yet and Crowley knew it, despite the beginnings of his heat making him desperate. 

“Yesss,” Crowley hissed, groaning with another cramp. “Sorry.” 

“Hush. Nothing to apologize for. Leave us for just a moment if you would, Madame Tracy?” 

She patted Crowley on the back and stepped gingerly away, disappearing down the hall. Crowley was left standing there with an arm around his stomach, slightly hunched over. Aziraphale stepped into his space then pulled him into a hug. Crowley went willingly, immediately nosing up against his neck to breathe him in. It soothed his body, but soon he’d want more. Soon, scent alone wouldn’t be enough. 

“I’m going to miss meals with you for a few days,” Crowley murmured. 

“That’s alright. I’m...I would have assumed you were on suppressants.” 

“Was. Mother wouldn’t let me bring them. S-said I should, er, spend it with you.” He cringed. “In another day or so I’ll be begging for you.” 

“I can only imagine.” There was a dark note in Aziraphale’s voice now. “And if you want suppressants, you will have them. I’ll not dictate your body, Crowley. I...I’m sorry your mother decided she could.” 

“Too late to matter now.” Crowley shuddered. “But yes, I would like to go back on them after this. If...if you don’t mind.” 

“Whatever you’d like.” Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s back and for a moment, he could be at peace in an Alpha’s arms. The pain would start again soon, then his heat and the insatiable need to be filled it brought with it. “Anything you need you will have, Crowley, alright?” 

Crowley nodded and rubbed his cheek against Aziraphale’s scent gland, grateful when the oil smeared over his skin. “Anything with your scent on it will help.” 

“Then I’ll make sure to keep things scented.” 

“Don’t…” Crowley exhaled slowly. “Don’t listen to me if I beg. You should probably stay away from the room, honestly. Have Madame Tracy be our go between.” 

“I think that’s a sound idea.” 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley whined and pressed his face into his shoulder. “I hate this.” 

“I can only imagine.” He pet a hand through Crowley’s hair. “But you’ll get through it, I promise.” 

Over the next day he decided he wasn’t entirely sure he  _ would _ get through it. He’d soaked through a pair of pajama trousers already, slick and needy. His skin was on fire and he eventually decided he was better off naked than clothed, grinding his hard cock into the sheets as he desperately fingered himself. 

It wasn’t enough. The easy press of fingers wasn’t ever going to be enough. He wept into the pillow, wondering distantly why his Alpha wasn’t coming. 

His orgasm helped abate the heat for a moment as he stroked himself through it, still moving his fingers in and out of the wet heat of him. He hated how his body changed during his heats, how he became slick and hot in places he shouldn’t be, how his hips ached and his insides churned. 

Madame Tracy came in during one of the few moments where he could breathe through the deep ache and added another blanket to his nest. It was doused in Aziraphale’s scent and he immediately buried his face in it, rubbed his cheeks and jaw against the soft scented fabric. 

Alpha. His Alpha. He whined and Madame Tracy pet his head. 

“You poor dear,” she whispered before she left. 

Sometimes Crowley slept, when his body was beyond exhausted. He collapsed with his nose buried in his Alpha’s scent, shuddering with need even in sleep. The heat would wake him in the middle of the night and he’d slide onto his knees and press fingers into himself, stroking his cock tightly with his other hand. He left his face pressed into the blanket and pretended it was Aziraphale behind him, working him open, preparing him for his cock. 

He thought about what it would be like to be fucked by an Alpha. Aziraphale would likely fight against his instincts to be rough. He’d ease into Crowley’s body in increments before shifting into deep, satisfying thrusts. 

“Aziraphale…” Crowley gasped into the blanket, imagining Aziraphale’s hands steadying his hips and holding him as he thrusts. He thought about how satisfying it would be to feel the pull of his knot each time it caught on his rim, teasing in and out of him because neither of them were ready for it to end. 

Then, oh, when they were both ready Aziraphale’s knot would swell and he’d continue to thrust in and pull out, letting the knot stretch him until he could stretch no longer. He’d be full, and then Aziraphale would come, would fill him with it and rest with his chest against Crowley’s back, rutting into him and remaining attached. 

Crowley came in his own fist, spasming around his fingers as he clenched around what should have been a knot. When the haze wore off he eased his fingers out of himself with a whimper, nuzzling his face into the blanket. He collapsed in his mess and fell almost immediately to sleep, soothed by the Alpha’s scent. 

By the fourth day he began to come out of the endless haze. Madame Tracy guided him off the bed and into a bath while she changed out the sheets and blankets that he’d made a mess of. Clean and very naked, still leaking slick, he crawled into the fresh sheets of his nest and pulled a newly scented blanket around him, cuddling it. 

He slept after that, waking only when he was encouraged to drink water and eat a little something. His body was sore and cramping but he managed to nibble on crackers and keep water down. 

On the fifth day, he begged her to bring Aziraphale. 

“Please,” he mumbled, the emotions starting to really hit. He was exhausted and felt so very lost. And scared. That was the strangest part of it, the fear and anxiety that clutched at him. 

“I’ll see, love. Hold on.” She left and he drifted until he heard the door open a little while later. 

“He’s not coming,” Crowley mumbled, but then made a surprised noise when the bed shifted and a hand ran through his hair. 

“I’m here,” Aziraphale murmured, taking a steadying breath. “I should have asked her to air the room out before I came in.” 

“Sorry.” 

“No, not your fault. Thankfully I have better self control than all that.” His hand was cool against Crowley’s face and he tilted his head to nuzzle against Aziraphale’s palm. 

“Stay with me.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” 

“It is done. I’m done.” 

“You still smell, ah, enticing?” He could hear the grimace in Aziraphale’s voice. 

“Didn't you say you had self control?” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Yes, well. I’ll stay as long as I’m comfortable, how’s that?” 

“Good.” Crowley budged over and made space for Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale settled behind him, putting an arm around his waist and pulling him back against his chest. He immediately nuzzled against Crowley’s neck. 

“You’ll smell like me,” Crowley pointed out. 

“Good,” Aziraphale hummed. “You smell wonderful.” 

“Oh.” Crowley blushed and pulled the blanket closer to him, hugging it to his chest as Aziraphale snuggled up against his back. Aziraphale’s warmth and the gentle weight of him seemed to calm Crowley’s shifting body, easing the stress that came with his cramping. “Mm.” 

“Rest,” Aziraphale suggested. “You need it.” 

Crowley nodded. “Kiss me?” 

Aziraphale shook his head and nuzzled Crowley’s shoulder. “That is not a path we ought to go down right now.” 

“Fine.” He wanted to grumble, but his Omega was too satisfied. It curled up in his chest and basked in the Alpha’s scent. 

He slept better than he had the previous nights and woke up still wrapped in Aziraphale’s arms, though at some point Aziraphale had put on pajamas. The uncomfortable pain and haze of his heat was gone and he sighed with relief. He couldn’t wait to get back on suppressants. 

“How do you feel?” Aziraphale’s voice was heavy with sleep as he lazily brushed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek. If he let himself, he could pretend they were long time lovers, worthy of being husbands. 

“Better.” He no longer felt as if his insides were going to burst out of him. It was progress. “What are your ruts like?” 

“Not as bad as all this. Hazy, and obnoxious, but I don’t experience the same kind of pain you seem to.” Aziraphale reached up and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, soothing him. Crowley’s eyes slid shut and he pressed up into the touch. 

“Do you want children?” 

Aziraphale’s hand stilled and the question hung in the air. A puff of breath brushed against his jaw as Aziraphale’s hand finally resumed its petting. 

“That’s a complicated question.” 

“Doesn’t seem complicated.” 

“Do you want children?” 

“Not right now. Maybe not ever.” 

“Hm.” 

“Does that disappoint you?” Crowley rolled over in Aziraphale’s embrace, daring to make eye contact. 

“Not particularly.” Aziraphale offered him a half-smile. “I’m not sure about it myself to be honest. Ever since my parents died I know my brother has felt it is our duty to continue the family line, take mates and have children. He and his mate have struggled to conceive, so of course his attentions fell back on me. There’s tradition to maintain I suppose, rules of society to follow. I’m not sure how much I buy into any of it.” 

“Would you still be courting me if I said I never wanted to have children?” 

“Yes.” Aziraphale answered so quickly that it startled Crowley. He was so sure about it when Crowley was still riddled with doubt. 

“Why?” 

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead, soft and affectionate. “Because I want to win your heart.” 

“But you don’t  _ know _ me.” 

“Perhaps that was true over a month ago when we were first married, but I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two about you since and I’m quite enamored by what I see.” 

Crowley huffed. “You’ll need to bring me a few more courtship gifts before we start throwing around the word ‘enamored’.” 

“That can be arranged.” Aziraphale smiled. 

“Thank you for staying with me.” 

“Yes. I only wish I could have been helpful during the worst of it. I’m afraid my mind was useless if I even got near this side of the house.” He grimaced. “All I could think about was how desperate I was to soothe you.” 

“Will you kiss me now?” Crowley asked, thinking about what it had been like before. He wanted to feel that same electricity. 

Aziraphale considered him for a moment before he cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Crowley kissed back, a little too eager as their teeth clacked together and he grunted. Aziraphale laughed and rubbed his thumb over Crowley’s lower lip gently before he leaned back in to steal another kiss. This one didn’t end in teeth. Instead, Crowley was treated to the sensation of Aziraphale’s tongue against his own. 

He whined. Aziraphale smiled against his mouth and lingered before he pulled back. 

“How was that?” Aziraphale asked. 

“How do you  _ think _ it was?” Crowley grumbled good naturedly. Aziraphale snorted. 

“Would you take dinner with me tonight?” 

“Yes.” Crowley snuggled back up to Aziraphale, tucking his head beneath his chin. “I will.” 

“Good.” 

Fall quickly shifted into winter, and Aziraphale continued to be an attentive husband. Crowley was surprised by it, if he were honest. It was strange to think Aziraphale was true to his word, that he wanted to properly court him before they pushed any further. 

“What do you do for the holidays?” Aziraphale asked at breakfast in early December. Crowley looked up from his eggs and shrugged. 

“Not much. My sister spends it with her husband and has since she was married. Once she was out of the house we stopped celebrating.” 

Aziraphale’s lips turned down and Crowley ducked his head. “That’s a shame. I’m quite fond of Christmas. The trees, the candles, the nicely wrapped gifts.” 

“I don’t mind it,” Crowley inserted quickly. “Really. I’d, well, I’d be okay spending them with you.” He would. It would be better than an awkward dinner thrown together for the sake of saying they celebrated. A smile returned to Aziraphale’s face. 

“I’ll try not to go overboard.” 

He failed at that. It turned out Aziraphale had made an understatement by saying he was  _ quite fond _ . It seemed he adored the holidays. His home, with Madame Tracy’s help, was covered in garland and other trappings of the holiday. There were candles in ornate candle holders depicting wise men approaching and a star in the sky. 

The tree was the centerpiece of it. They’d gone out to a proper Christmas tree farm to have one cut down and Aziraphale had a handmade tree skirt that was passed down from his grandmother. The tree itself was decorated with garland and tinsel. Aziraphale showed him how to string popcorn to put it on the tree. There were brightly colored, shining baubles and a few custom ornaments that had been gifts. 

Crowley didn’t have ornaments. He didn’t remember ever having a tree as lovely as Aziraphale’s. 

“I got you something,” Aziraphale insisted, a few days before the holiday. “Of course I have actual Christmas gifts for you, too,” he smiled. “But this I thought might suit you.” 

Aziraphale held out a little box and Crowley took it. It was a cube and when he lifted the lid, nestled inside of felt and padding was an ornament. It was in the shape of a black and red serpent, made out of glass. He took it out of the box and held it to the light, his breath catching. It was beautiful, something in the glass shimmering and accenting the detailed scales. 

“You said you didn’t have any ornaments of your own, so…” Aziraphale fidgeted. Crowley carefully set it in the box, set the box aside, and yanked Aziraphale into a kiss. He went with it willingly, cupping Crowley’s face as they shared kisses in front of the tree. 

“Thank you,” Crowley whispered, his hands resting against Aziraphale’s side. “It is beautiful.” 

“Mm. You’re beautiful.” Aziraphale nipped his lower lip and then pressed their foreheads together. Crowley inhaled deeply, so warm and happy. “Now come, we should find a place for it on the tree.” 

The holiday itself was a gentle affair. Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell were given the day off and spent it with Aziraphale. They had a robust dinner that everyone contributed to, then opened presents. Crowley had received a few new plants, some special fertilizer Madame Tracy got from a friend, and a pocket knife. 

Everyone received pocket knives, actually. It was Shadwell’s way of insisting they ought to have something to protect themselves. Aziraphale was gracious, Crowley tried not to laugh. 

They ended the evening with proper eggnog, Madame Tracy begging off to bed while the Sergeant insisted he had a few things to see to around the grounds before he slept. Crowley and Aziraphale remained curled together in front of the fireplace, Crowley tucked into Aziraphale’s side. He nuzzled against the shoulder of the dark red, cable knit sweater beneath his cheek. 

“Well?” Aziraphale asked quietly, turning to brush a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head. “How was our first Christmas together?” 

“Lovely,” Crowley admitted. “Perfect, really.” 

Aziraphale beamed. “Excellent.” 

Courtship wasn’t all perfect, though. No relationship was, Crowley was learning. It was a hard lesson, too. Come the darkest part of winter a certain heaviness fell upon Crowley, one that had him retreating to his nest more often. He found he oscillated between restlessness and sleepiness. When the weather was particularly terrible, rain lashing the windows at all hours and dark skies, he preferred to bury himself in blankets and hide from the world. 

It made him cranky, endlessly irritable, and he brought that irritability out of his nest and to dinner one night. Aziraphale liked to give him space, never bothered him while he was in his nest, but that rankled him too. Why didn’t the Alpha care? How could he not see Crowley was struggling? Not that he wanted help, but it would be nice to be noticed. 

Aziraphale tried to make small talk. “How have you been, my dear?” 

Crowley stared down at the meat and potatoes on his plate, pushing it around with no appetite. “How do you think I’ve been?” He growled it, shoulders hunched. When he chanced a glance over at Aziraphale he noticed his nose was wrinkled. Crowley’s scent was likely off. No wonder Aziraphale hadn’t come near him. 

“I ought to go,” he whispered as he pushed his plate away and got up from the table, fully intending to retreat to his nest. Here he was being rude when Aziraphale had asked a simple question. He was so conflicted, part of him yearning to go back toward the Alpha and fall into his embrace, the other wanting to run away. 

Crowley leaned into the urge to run. He turned from the table and stepped away only to stop when Aziraphale’s hand hit the table. He flinched. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale hissed, letting out a slow breath. He seemed to collect himself. “I’ve been trying to give you space, because I know you don’t like to feel cornered. But this behavior has progressed into something that concerns me and I’m...I’m  _ worried _ about you.” 

Crowley stood with his back to Aziraphale, a war raging inside of him. His Omega howled in despair. 

“It may be difficult, but I want to know what’s going on. I want to know what is going through your head, how you’re feeling, and what I can do to help you. Support you.” Crowley heard the screech of the chair against the floor as Aziraphale stood. His scent grew closer and he ducked his head.

“Tell me, please.” Aziraphale’s hand rested between his shoulder blades and Crowley shuddered. 

“I feel terrible,” he whispered. “Like I’m the worst person, like I don’t know what I want. There’s a war right here,” Crowley touched his chest. “I don’t know if I can win it.” There were tears. No one had ever asked him these questions before. His parents tended to ignore him during his winter lows. Sometimes his father rescented his blanket but that was it once his sister left. 

When Lilith was there she would sneak into his room and hold him as he fought the demons in his head. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice was tender, soft. Arms drew him against a warm chest and Crowley was surrounded by the smell of chocolate and vanilla. He tucked his nose up beneath Aziraphale’s jaw as tears fell down his cheeks and he finally let out a soft sob. “There you are, my darling,” Aziraphale murmured. “I’m right here. I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.” 

Crowley sniffled and put his arms around Aziraphale, finally giving in. One side won the war and it was the one that preferred to have Aziraphale on it. 

It was the second time Aziraphale slept in Crowley’s nest, keeping him wrapped up in his arms so he could settle and rest. 

There was a lot of down time and Crowley got to know his husband slowly, but surely. They talked often, went on walks during breaks in the winter rain, and hosted customers bearing rare books that they either intended to sell, or wanted to pay Aziraphale to fix. That was his business, he’d learned. Though he had family money, he had made quite a small fortune on his own through his diligence with his collection, and the skills he acquired as a result of keeping old books. 

Finally, the beginnings of spring arrived and Crowley found his spirit bolstered by the return of birds and the budding of flowers. Their courtship through the winter months had been surprisingly nice. Despite being married and living in the same house it felt more like what Crowley had always thought courtship should be: thoughtful, considerate, exciting. 

One afternoon Crowley was tending to the plants that had taken over one of the empty rooms while Aziraphale sat in a lounge chair and read aloud to him and the greenery. Madame Tracy stepped in with a letter in her hand. 

“Aziraphale, your brother has sent a letter.” 

“Oh. I’ll take it.” She walked in and handed it to him. 

“Your garden is looking lovely, Crowley.” 

“Thank you, Madame Tracy.” Crowley offered her a smile before he returned to spritzing a fern. She left. Crowley glanced at Aziraphale and found he’d gone quiet and pensive. 

“What is it?” He walked over and perched on the arm of the chair. 

“Gabriel is coming to call on me tomorrow.” Aziraphale frowned. “So kind of him to invite himself over on such short notice.” 

“Is it a bad thing?” 

“With him, my dear, it is never a pleasant thing.” Aziraphale folded up the letter and tucked it into his jacket pocket. Crowley wandered over to him. 

“Do I have to pretend to like him?” 

Aziraphale huffed a laugh and looked up at Crowley, tilting his head a little. “When have you been good at pretending to be anything?” 

Crowley stuck his tongue out and spritzed Aziraphale in the face, laughter soon following. 

Later that evening Crowley sat on a cushion on the floor in front of the couch, Aziraphale’s hands in his hair following the line of the brush he was running through it. Crowley leaned his head back into the touches, eyes closed. 

“You have the loveliest hair,” Aziraphale remarked, running his nails over Crowley’s scalp in a way that made him shiver. “I’d like to braid it, if you’d allow me to.” 

“‘Course, angel.” 

Aziraphale’s hands stopped. Crowley’s eyes fluttered open and he tilted his head back further to try and see what he’d said that made the attention stop. “Hm?”

“You just called me angel.” There was an amused look on Aziraphale’s face. 

“Anyone willing to brush and braid my hair is an angel,” Crowley pointed out. “Do you not like the pet name?” 

Aziraphale’s hands resumed their work in Crowley’s hair. “On the contrary, I like it quite a lot.” 

“Good.” Crowley flashed him a smile and then closed his eyes again. Aziraphale finished brushing his hair and began to separate it out, pulling the tight start of a braid. 

A soft rumbling sound filled the room after a few moments, Crowley’s chest vibrating with it. Then there was the familiar hiccup, a pause before the rumbling vibrations started up again. Aziraphale’s hands became even gentler in his hair. 

“You’re purring.” 

“Mm.” Crowley tried to ignore the flare of self consciousness every time his purr hiccuped. It was just a little hitch in the sound, but enough to tell the Alpha it was imperfect. If he didn’t point it out perhaps Aziraphale wouldn’t remark on it. 

“It is lovely.” Aziraphale’s voice sounded weighed down by some emotion Crowley couldn’t quite place, and the next thing he knew his braid was being dismantled and started again. He didn’t mind, Aziraphale could touch his hair all night and he’d be fine. 

The third time Aziraphale undid the braid Crowley started to worry and his purring abruptly stopped. “Is everything alright?” 

“Yes, I just…” Aziraphale’s hands fidgeted in his hair. “Well. Your purr. I didn’t want it to stop and I thought if I kept having an excuse to touch your hair. Er.” He sounded so flustered and Crowley blushed a bit, turning so he could press his cheek against Aziraphale’s knee and nuzzle it. 

“Just braid my hair,” he murmured. “And try not to think about it too much. If you start thinking about it I start thinking about it and then the purring stops.”

“Right. Of course.” Aziraphale guided Crowley’s head back into position and brushed his hair out one more time before he started braiding it again. It took longer, but eventually Crowley slipped into a comfortable enough space that his soft purr started again, the rumble in his chest comforting and filling the room. It was easy enough to relax when he was being touched by his Alpha, surrounded by his easy, calm scent. By the time the braid was complete and Aziraphale tied the end, Crowley was practically dozing. 

“Your purr,” Aziraphale ran his hand over the finished braid and then rested his hands on Crowley’s shoulders. “It has a little hitch in it.” 

Crowley sighed. Of course he’d notice. “Had a bit of a tussle with a couple other Omegas when I was younger. We were...we’d been part of a kid-pack, you know. But then there was a conflict between me and our Alpha and it ended in a fight and I went home after taking a hit to the throat. My purr has been a little off ever since.” He ducked his head, ignoring the slight burn of shame. 

Aziraphale shifted off the couch to sit down beside Crowley and leaned in to nuzzle their cheeks together. “I like it. Not the bit about you getting hurt but, I like your purr.” 

Oh. Crowley warmed at that, shyly turning to bump their noses together. “Yeah?” 

“Yes.” Aziraphale reached up and rested his hand against the side of Crowley’s face, tilting his head so their lips would brush together. Crowley’s purr started again, softer this time, and Aziraphale’s lips curled into a smile against his own. 

They shared kisses for a few minutes, Crowley memorizing the shape of Aziraphale’s lips and the taste of his mouth. There was the sharp fruity remnant of their after dinner wine and something fuller, warmer, something that matched the scent Crowley could get lost in. One of Aziraphale’s hands found his chest and pressed against it, not pushing him away, but feeling. 

“Oh.” Aziraphale sounded surprised and pressed their foreheads together, peering down where his hand rested against Crowley’s vibrating chest. “I can feel it.” 

Crowley’s purring was interrupted by a laugh. “Have you never heard an Omega purr before?” 

“Well.” Aziraphale flushed red and sat back a little, his fingers lingering on Crowley’s chest. “I’ve  _ heard _ purrs, sure, but I’ve...I’ve not been this close. I’ve not been the reason for it.” 

“What about a parent’s purr?” Crowley remembered his early childhood, snuggled up to his father’s chest, soothed to sleep by the soft vibrations of a purr. 

“I didn’t have an Omega parent.” Aziraphale’s face fell a little and Crowley immediately leaned in to press their foreheads together again, rubbing, nuzzling. “My mother was a Beta, my father an Alpha.” 

“Your mother must have been a hell of a woman to churn out two Alpha sons, then.” 

Aziraphale smiled, but it was faint. “Yes. She was that.” 

“Well,” Crowley searched for a redirection and reached up to rest his hand over Aziraphale’s, which still lay on his chest. “You can...you can feel mine whenever you want.” And maybe someday when they were ready to share a nest, he could work up a purr and Aziraphale could rest with his head on his chest and feel it. 

Blue eyes found his, full of gratitude and affection. “Thank you, Crowley.” 

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged and nuzzled him again. “S’nothin.” 

When the night grew late, Aziraphale walked him to his room as had become their routine. He always left him at the door, even when Crowley’s Omega whined to be taken back to his Alpha’s den, to make a nest there and rub his scent on everything. 

“Goodnight, Crowley.” Aziraphale touched his cheek and kissed him. 

“Goodnight.” Crowley smiled even as his Omega howled in upset as he slipped into his room and shut the door. Stripping down and into his pajamas and crawling into his nest barely made a dent in his desire, in the pull he felt to go out and follow Aziraphale back to his room. Instinct and desire were beginning to come together and he wondered if soon he might talk to Aziraphale about it, about making their courtship something more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday! 
> 
> You can come hang out with me in between on [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel visits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Thank you to everyone who has commented and been following along. It is nice to see that folks who might otherwise not be into ABO are liking this! I definitely enjoy playing with omegaverse dynamics, and I hope it shows. 
> 
> This is the chapter where a little bit of spiciness begins. Enjoy.

Gabriel arrived late the next morning and when Crowley greeted him he didn’t miss the Alpha’s evaluating look. Gabriel’s eyes wandered from Crowley’s neck, bare except for his scent patches, down to his belly which was pointedly  _ not _ round with child. For Crowley it took everything not to lift his lips and snarl, to try and chase away this Alpha who didn’t belong in his home. Instead, he bit down on his instinct and offered him a polite nod before he disappeared to find Aziraphale in the kitchen. 

He found him talking with Shadwell as Aziraphale prepared tea and Shadwell prepared little sandwiches. They both stopped and looked up when Crowley entered the room. 

“My brother wear out your hospitality already?” Aziraphale asked with an apologetic smile. “Hopefully his trip will be brief and he won’t linger. Now, would you mind grabbing that plate of sandwiches there?” 

They, along with Shadwell, took the food and tea out to a small sitting room where Gabriel had remained, gazing thoughtfully out the window. He turned when Aziraphale entered the room, smiling in a way that reminded Crowley of a sleazy salesman trying to fit his pitch to his audience. He didn’t even bother glancing at Crowley again. 

“Will your husband be taking tea with us?” Gabriel asked. “I had hoped we could speak alone.” 

Crowley took a small measure of pleasure in the barely-there unhappy curl of Aziraphale’s lips. He wanted to smell him so badly, cursed by scent patches. He imagined the scent would please him and  _ displease _ Gabriel, which was an exciting prospect. Two Alphas getting into a row wasn’t usually a good thing for anyone but oh, Crowley’s Omega wanted to see his mate win this one. 

“He will. Surely whatever business you have with me you can share in front of him. He is, after all, my husband.” Aziraphale smiled fondly over at Crowley as he took a seat and sipped his tea. 

“Right.” Gabriel frowned but didn’t protest, sitting down in an armchair. He crossed his arms over his chest. “How have things been?” 

The conversation was obnoxiously light and fake, Gabriel clearly withholding because Crowley was in the room. Aziraphale continued to shoot Crowley apologetic glances but eventually it became a little too much. He knew when he wasn’t welcome and with a flimsy excuse that he needed to tend to his plants he slipped out of the room. 

What they didn’t know was that after going up the first couple steps of the staircase, he crept back down to eavesdrop. 

“You’re quite rude, you know.” Aziraphale’s voice simmered with annoyance but he was too polite to actually snap. “Is there a reason you needed to chase my mate out of the room before we could talk?” 

“He’s not much of a mate, is he.” 

“Excuse me?” There it was, a sharp note in his tone. Crowley shivered with it. “He certainly is.” 

“There’s no mating mark, Aziraphale. And you clearly didn’t do your duty when he was in heat.” 

“How did you know about his heat?” 

Crowley could barely make out Gabriel’s grimace. “Do you think his mother and I did not speak at length about your compatibility before marrying the both of you? She assured me that he was going to be off suppressants and therefore should have had at least one heat by now.” 

It didn’t surprise him, given his own conversation with his mother. He still hated it, knowing just how much work she put into this pairing with the intent of getting him pregnant. It left him a bit dizzy, a bit sick, and he blinked a few times to try and clear his blurred vision. His own damn  _ mother _ . 

“My opinion on these conversations notwithstanding, what Crowley and I do or don’t do in our marriage bed is ultimately none of your business. He is mine to protect, mine to keep.” 

“It is still in the law that marriages which haven’t been consummated can be annulled, Aziraphale.” 

“Oh please, tell me how you’d go about proving we haven’t  _ consummated _ ?” 

“How about the fact that you and he don’t even sleep in the same room?” 

Dread settled over Crowley because of the startled look on Aziraphale’s face, quickly whisked away by something akin to rage. How would Gabriel know that? 

“It seems someone on my staff has been sharing household matters with you.” Aziraphale’s voice was as cold as ice and Crowley stared, transfixed, wondering what this kind of anger smelled like. “Regardless, many couples sleep in different rooms. It has been a part of high society for the longest time. It isn’t strange.” 

“No, but it is strange if you haven’t shared a bed with him long enough to consummate your relationship.” 

There was a low growl that filled the room and made Crowley’s spine tingle, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. It was the sort of growl that told him to run, hide, flee to his den and nest and stay there until the danger passed. But then his brain realized who it was coming from: Aziraphale. It was a deep, trembling thing, low and dark in a way that Aziraphale wasn’t. 

He watched as Aziraphale stood and allowed his lips to curl into a snarl, Gabriel also standing, taking up a confident but defensive stance. 

“I will not have you in this house telling me when I should or shouldn’t be with my mate,” Aziraphale’s growl rumbled around each of his words. “He is  _ mine _ , and I’d like to see you try to take him from me.” 

Gabriel looked a bit surprised by the turn of events and Crowley recognized it for what it was: he’d threatened an Alpha in his own home, threatened something he cared for. Threatened his  _ mate _ . Crowley’s heart lurched and he desperately wanted to put himself between his Alpha and the other. He wanted to calm Aziraphale, to remind him that they were both safe and that the other Alpha held no real power. 

Instead he remained glued to the ground where he was, watching when he wasn’t supposed to be. 

“Do your duty and I won’t have to. Get a child in him and I won’t bother you about it any longer,” Gabriel grit out. “You know what’s at stake. Don’t you want our family’s line to live on?” 

“I think that’s enough, Gabriel,” Madame Tracy said as she delicately put herself between the two Alphas, entering from another part of the room. “Perhaps you ought to go.” 

Gabriel looked desperately between Madame Tracy and Aziraphale before he growled in frustration. “Fine. Fine! This isn’t the end of this conversation, Aziraphale.” It sounded like a threat which went as well as everything else, earning a snarl from Aziraphale. 

Crowley decided he didn’t want to hear anymore and crept up to his room, relaxing in the scent of his nest. He tore off his scent patches and discarded them, picking up one of the blankets Aziraphale had gifted him in order to nuzzle into it, enjoying their mingled scents. Something continued to stir in his belly as he breathed in deeply, something that started around the time Aziraphale snarled and told Gabriel nothing was going to take away what was his. 

Aziraphale wanted him. Aziraphale had already claimed him in the ways that mattered. He hugged his blanket and startled when he heard a knock on the door a few moments later. When he pulled it open it was Aziraphale on the other side looking ragged and just a bit wild. 

“How much of that did you hear?” 

“You knew I was there?” Crowley’s eyes widened. 

“Of course I did. Patches aren’t going to keep me from smelling you.” Aziraphale stepped closer, body tense as if he was trying to hold himself back. “If I said anything that was untoward or if I presumed -” 

Crowley silenced him by dragging him into a kiss. He tugged Aziraphale into the room, his den, and reached to push the door shut. Aziraphale made a surprised noise and then lifted his hands to cup Crowley’s face in them, deepening the kiss.  _ His _ , Crowley thought as his mouth opened beneath Aziraphale’s hot tongue and his insides turned to liquid. He reached up and buried his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair, walking them back to the bed, to his nest. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale panted against his mouth as they stood at the foot of the bed. “I’m in your den.” 

“Yes, Alpha,” Crowley murmured, nipping his lower lip. Aziraphale’s scent was headier, heavier, weighed down by his growing arousal. Their scents mingled in the air and it seemed right, like it had the last night of Crowley’s heat when Aziraphale stayed with him. He realized in that moment he didn’t want to spend another night apart. 

Aziraphale’s gaze went hazy after being called Alpha and he nudged beneath Crowley’s chin to press kisses to his throat and then tongued at one of his scent glands. The liquid had to be bitter (Crowley had tasted it once, out of curiosity) but Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind as he pressed his tongue and massaged the gland with it. Each touch sent jolts straight down to Crowley’s cock and he whimpered loudly, fingers curling in Aziraphale’s hair. 

“Alpha,” he breathed and Aziraphale’s chest rumbled with a growl that was so much softer than when he was posturing with Gabriel. It was a growl meant only for moments like this when they were together. Crowley groaned as Aziraphale moved to the other gland, giving it the same attention as his hands slid down Crowley’s back. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Crowley admitted and hated how small he sounded, how inexperienced he really was. He toyed with the short, soft curls at the back of Aziraphale’s neck and allowed his Alpha to suck gently at his throat. Then Aziraphale trailed kisses back up to his lips, hands drifting to pull Crowley’s hips to his own. Crowley gasped and bit down on Aziraphale’s lower lip in surprise as he jerked the bulge of his cock against Aziraphale’s thigh. 

He realized very quickly he could get off like that and blushed, tucking his face against Aziraphale’s neck and breathing him in. He rolled his hips experimentally and groaned into Aziraphale’s skin. 

“You seemed to have figured it out,” Aziraphale whispered teasingly into his ear, his tongue teasing the shell of it before he dipped down to take Crowley’s earlobe into his mouth, nibbling. Crowley whined and jerked his hips again. 

“Shouldn’t we get our clothes off?” Crowley asked, out of breath. 

“Would you like to?” Aziraphale asked, seeming to have reigned himself in from the ragged edge he’d been standing on earlier. “There’s no play book.” He kissed beneath Crowley’s ear and then down the side of his neck. 

“Isn’t t-there,” Crowley found it difficult to concentrate with Aziraphale’s mouth on him. “The whole insert part A into part B deal.” He remembered learning about it, knew what he liked when he touched himself, but nothing had told him how to kiss, how to touch, how to use his hands when he was so overwhelmed by the warmth and smell of his partner. 

How was anyone supposed to think? 

“Sometimes,” Aziraphale murmured into his neck before biting down gently in a way that made Crowley hot all over. His toes curled. Finally, Aziraphale managed to pull himself away long enough to look into Crowley’s eyes. “Do you want that?” 

Crowley wilted a little. “I don’t know.” 

Aziraphale kissed him softly, reassuringly. Anytime Crowley started to slip into worrying he inhaled and Aziraphale’s scent soothed him. “I’ll show you something I think you’ll like.” 

Carefully, Aziraphale began unbuttoning and pulling Crowley’s clothes off. With each new expanse of bared skin he paused to kiss it, whether it was the round of Crowley’s shoulder, or the space just below his collarbone. Each touch was reverent, each kiss warm, and Aziraphale nuzzled and smeared his scent into Crowley’s skin. 

He wanted to be stressed about what Aziraphale would think once he was finally naked, but everything was too gentle, too reassuring for him to care. When he was stripped to nothing he reached out and tugged at Aziraphale’s clothes. 

“You’re overdressed,” he pointed out, hands trembling. Aziraphale gripped his wrists and squeezed gently. He ran his hands down Crowley’s arms, his palms soft and calming. 

“Then undress me.” Aziraphale stole a kiss before allowing Crowley to work through his buttons and layers. He tried to mimic what Aziraphale had done, kissing newly exposed skin, but his mouth seemed clumsier, uncertain despite Aziraphale’s murmured encouragement. Crowley switched to exploring with his fingers instead, finding that far more lucrative. It was easier to follow the line of Aziraphale’s collarbone with his fingertip than his mouth, a delight to trace down over his chest and run his palms over his stomach. 

Whenever he glanced up to find Aziraphale’s eyes he found the Alpha watching him with keen interest. 

When they were both naked Crowley couldn’t help but shiver, eyes dragging over Aziraphale all the way down to his half-hard cock. He swallowed and looked back up at Aziraphale who immediately stepped up to him, pulling him into another kiss. It was hard to worry when Aziraphale’s mouth was solid and confident against his, gentle hands tracing the line of Crowley’s spine and coming to rest on his hips. 

He rutted their cocks together and Crowley moaned and pressed back, suddenly very desperate to be as close to Aziraphale as possible. Aziraphale laughed. 

“Shut up,” Crowley grumbled, even as Aziraphale scooped him up and deposited him on the bed among the pillows and blankets of his nest. He crawled over Crowley and leaned in to steal another kiss, grinding their hips together again as Crowley arched into it. 

It was so much better than his own hand. 

“How do you touch yourself?” Aziraphale asked, voice low and rumbling. 

“Er,” Crowley laughed nervously. “I just...I...you know. Grab and uh, stroke?” How was he supposed to  _ talk _ about this? Especially with Aziraphale naked and warm and hovering right over the very thing they were talking about. 

“Like this?” Aziraphale whispered against his ear as he wrapped his fingers around Crowley’s cock and stroked him slowly. 

“Oooh, oh,” Crowley shoved his head back against the bed, eyes closed. He thrust up into Aziraphale’s hand with a shudder. “Yeah, yeah.” 

Aziraphale continued to rut his own cock against Crowley’s thigh, precome smearing against his skin. He stroked Crowley slowly and with purpose, kissing below his ear, then his jaw, before slipping down to press another open mouthed kiss to his scent gland. 

He was on edge then, a high keening sound coming from somewhere in the back of his throat as he arched desperately into the hand on him. 

“I don’t want it to end this soon,” Crowley groaned. Shit. It hadn't felt that good when it was his own hand, or the sheets, or anything he’d ever ground against to get off. “But Aziraphale, I’m close.” He whined the last word as Aziraphale thumbed the head of his cock, smearing liquid around the slit. 

“Let go, Omega,” Aziraphale insisted, kissing beneath his chin. “We have all the time in the world to do more.” 

Then he bit down on Crowley’s pulse and gave him two firm strokes. It was enough to push him over the desperate edge and his body tensed, alight with pleasure and heat. He thought he would break apart, the sensations flooded him, left him strung out and he gasped as Aziraphale kissed his jaw, his cheek, and then the corner of his mouth, whispering soft endearments as he stroked him through his orgasm. 

Eventually he was a bit too sensitive and he pushed Aziraphale’s hand away with a shudder, whining. He shivered as Aziraphale laughed and smeared the cum on his hand over Crowley’s belly. 

“Hey. Messy.” Crowley huffed but didn’t bother opening his eyes. Aziraphale smiled against his cheek. 

“I’ll clean you up.” 

“Hmm.” Crowley smiled but what he didn’t expect was moments later to feel Aziraphale’s tongue against his belly. He made a surprised noise and squirmed, looking down at a mop of blonde curls to find blue eyes staring up at him as a warm, pink tongue lapped up the mess on his stomach. “Aziraphale! That - that’s…” 

Hot. Very hot. Sort of gross, since he wasn’t sure cum was supposed to taste good, but still hot. 

“Good,” Aziraphale murmured as he finished his job and crawled back up Crowley’s body. “Want a taste?” 

Crowley hesitated and then nodded. Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Crowley wrinkled his nose but indulged, not exactly thrilled but not as disgusted as he thought he would be as Aziraphale shared his taste. They broke apart and Crowley reached up to shyly draw his fingers from Aziraphale’s temple down to his jaw. 

“What about you? What do you like?” Crowley leaned up to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s scent gland, a patch of skin only slightly darker than the rest, lapping at the liquid there. It was bitter chocolate cut only slightly by something lighter, not pleasant but intoxicating. Above him, Aziraphale growled with pleasure and rutted his cock against Crowley’s hip. 

“Do you trust me?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Yeah I think so.” Crowley smiled. 

“Roll onto your side for me. And wait here.” 

“Right.” 

Aziraphale grabbed one of the blankets and put it around his waist before he disappeared into the hallway. When he returned he was holding a jar and he closed the door quickly behind him. He dropped the blanket at the foot of the bed and crawled back into the nest, settling spooned against Crowley’s back. 

Crowley listened as he unscrewed the lid of the jar and made an uncertain noise. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked. 

“You’re...well. You’re not going to - er. Fuck me, are you?” 

Aziraphale made a startled noise, followed by a strained laugh. “No, no, my dear boy. Not...no.” Crowley felt warm lips press to the nape of his neck and he relaxed a little. “No, that is something best saved for a night on its own.” He smoothed a hand over Crowley’s hip and thigh. “No, this is something far simpler. Here, lift your leg.” 

Crowley obeyed and made a surprised noise as Aziraphale began to rub slick lubricant from the jar onto his inner thighs. He was generous with it, leaving Crowley’s skin slippery and warm. Then, to his surprise, Aziraphale pressed his cock against his inner thigh and encouraged Crowley to rest his leg back down. 

Nestled between his thighs, Aziraphale molded himself to Crowley’s back and kissed his shoulder. “See? Now this is something I like very much.” He rolled his hips, his cock sliding against Crowley’s inner thighs. It was a bit filthy and wildly erotic as he stared down and watched the head of Aziraphale’s cock appear and disappear as he started a gentle rhythm. 

“Oh,” Crowley adjusted the pressure of his thighs, enjoying the soft hitch in Aziraphale’s breathing and the slightly harder thrust. “Can I…” Instead of describing it, he reached down so that the head of Aziraphale’s cock pressed into his palm on every thrust, trying to provide him just a little more friction. 

“Yes, Crowley, oh, yes.” Aziraphale picked up the pace, one of his hands splayed over Crowley’s stomach. Crowley began to squirm and move, listening to Aziraphale’s breathing and paying attention to the way his body responded to figure out what worked and what didn’t. 

Aziraphale kissed up the side of Crowley’s neck and sucked what would likely be marks into his skin. They both groaned, Crowley enjoying the extra attention and Aziraphale clearly enjoying Crowley’s thighs. 

“Yes, yes -” Aziraphale gasped and Crowley felt hot cum smear against his hand and shivered with it, feeling Aziraphale’s body twitch and tense as he rode out his orgasm. 

“That’s right angel,” Crowley murmured because it seemed like the right thing to say as he rubbed his messy fingers over the head of Aziraphale’s cock. He then brought his hand to his mouth and hesitantly licked his fingers, wrinkling his nose again. Aziraphale, whose chin was now on his shoulder, chuckled. 

“It isn’t for everyone,” he conceded, tilting his head to kiss Crowley’s shoulder. 

“I like this,” Crowley admitted. “I’ve never thought about it like this but…” He trailed off, uncertain as to what he was trying to say. 

“I’m glad. This should be fun, it should be  _ good _ . You should like it, whatever we do together.” Aziraphale sighed and it sounded like such a light, wistful thing. It made Crowley’s heart clench with joy. He’d satisfied his Alpha and now got to relax back against his warm chest, his arms around him. 

His hand was still messy and he held it out away from himself. Aziraphale huffed. 

“Should we get cleaned up?” He asked, stroking his fingers over Crowley’s belly. “I think I’ve made a bit of a mess of you.” Aziraphale’s fingers teased between his thighs and he realized there was cum smeared there, too. Crowley wouldn’t admit it aloud, not yet, but he kind of liked the tangible mark of his Alpha. 

“We could take a bath.” 

“Oh,  _ we _ ?” Aziraphale sounded pleased. “I suppose we could, certainly.” He pressed a couple kisses to the back of Crowley’s shoulder. “I’ll ask Madame Tracy to have one drawn for us.” 

Crowley rolled over in his embrace first, resting his messy hand against Aziraphale’s side as he leaned in and kissed him. Aziraphale kissed back, gently rolling Crowley onto his back and pressing his weight down against him so their bodies were aligned. Crowley relaxed beneath it, groaning into Aziraphale’s mouth. 

“I’ll be back,” Aziraphale promised before he rolled off the bed and proceeded to yank on enough clothing to be decent. Regardless, there was no way Madame Tracy wouldn’t  _ know _ and that made Crowley blush. Well, she’d cleaned his sheets for him and seen him in the middle of his heat so he supposed there was very little that actually fazed her. 

Eventually Aziraphale returned and wrapped a blanket around Crowley, leading him to the bathroom in the hallway where a tub of hot water was waiting. They both clambored in, shifting until Crowley could sit between Aziraphale’s legs and lean back into him. Aziraphale ran his fingers over Crowley’s wet skin, humming in thought. 

“You’ll have bruises,” he admitted, reaching up to touch the side of Crowley’s neck. Crowley tilted his head back against Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Good.” And maybe one day Aziraphale would leave him with a permanent one. Aziraphale’s chest rumbled with a pleased growl. 

They bathed and changed into casual clothes. Crowley was amazed at how relaxed and loose limbed he was, following after Aziraphale and resisting the urge to be constantly touching him. Whether Aziraphale smelled it on him, or sensed it, he met Crowley’s hesitance by reaching out and taking his hand, pulling him close. They made snacks in the kitchen and eventually ended up in the upstairs library curled on the couch together as Aziraphale read. 

Crowley scented him, nuzzling until he was content with the level of his scent on Aziraphale’s skin. Aziraphale pressed a smiling kiss to his temple before he continued reading and they spent the evening like that, together. 

Aziraphale walked him to his room at the end of the night and they both hesitated outside of the threshold. Then, mustering up his courage, Crowley took Aziraphale’s hands and led him into the bedroom. He all but dragged him into his nest, Aziraphale going willingly even as Crowley fussed with the blankets and pillows. He moved them around until they were surrounded, hemmed in until all they could do was settle into each other’s arms. 

He wondered for a moment whether or not his nest was good enough for his Alpha when Aziraphale surprised him with a kiss. 

“I like being in a nest with you,” he whispered and Crowley couldn’t hide his smile as he pressed in for another kiss, cupping Aziraphale’s face with his hand. 

“We could make one together,” Crowley pointed out. “In your den. I could...I could bring the things you like best from this nest and we could make one for us.” He swallowed hard, embarrassed. He was being such a typical Omega but it was difficult not to be with his heart swelling with affection and Aziraphale’s scent all around him, comforting. 

“I would like that,” Aziraphale admitted. “A great deal, if I’m honest. We should bring the things you like best, too.” 

Kind Alpha. Thoughtful Alpha. Crowley’s Omega pranced around, pleased at having won over the attentions of a mate like Aziraphale. 

“And I want to do more of what we did today in our nest, when it is made.” 

Aziraphale laughed and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, smiling at him. It lit up his whole face, his eyes bright with it, the corners crinkling. “I’d like that as well.” 

Crowley snuggled close, tucking his head up under Aziraphale’s chin. Aziraphale rubbed his back, his hand steady and soothing. It wasn’t long before Crowley started to purr and he didn’t miss the way Aziraphale pressed closer so their chests could touch and let out a soft ‘oh’ when he got to feel the vibrations again. 

“You are the loveliest thing,” Aziraphale whispered, voice light and filled with awe as he ran his hand down Crowley’s back. 

Crowley was already drifting and mumbled nonsense in reply, smiling sleepily when Aziraphale chuckled. 

“Sleep now,” Aziraphale insisted. So Crowley did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday! See you next week. 
> 
> In the meantime, come hang out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale build a nest together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! Happy Wednesday. I hope everyone's week is going well. Thank you again for your continued support! Kind comments fuel me. 
> 
> In case you're interested, I'm celebrating reaching 100 followers on Twitter and I have a poll going right now that you can find [HERE](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels/status/1232356412640178178) that includes a potential bonus chapter of this fic, outside of the normal posting schedule. I'm trying to figure out how everyone wants to celebrate, so if you're interested in having a voice, feel free to head over to twitter to vote! There's also an option for a prompt fic giveaway which y'all might be interested in.

Crowley woke up to hands carding gently through his hair and decided it was the best way to wake up. His purr started up almost immediately and a moment later Aziraphale dipped down to kiss him. 

“Good morning,” Aziraphale smiled against his mouth and stole another kiss. 

“Mm.” Crowley reached up and buried his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair, pulling him into a deeper kiss. Aziraphale came willingly, gently pushing Crowley onto his back so he could hover above him. One hand remained in Crowley’s hair while the other rucked up his sleeping shirt and smoothed over his stomach. 

The early morning was heavy with their combined scents, woodfire and cocoa and cinnamon and vanilla. He could also smell Aziraphale’s sweat beneath that, the scent of skin and hair and soap. They were so close and Crowley basked in it, safe and comfortable as their tongues stroked together in long, slow swipes. 

Emboldened by how warm and loose limbed he was, Crowley tipped them over so that Aziraphale was the one on his back. Aziraphale made a surprised noise as he was pressed into the bed but gazed up at Crowley with a smile, eyes bright. He was far too awake for the time of day and Crowley huffed and kissed his chin. 

“I want to touch you like you touched me last night,” Crowley announced, marshalling his courage. “Can I?” 

Aziraphale’s eyes darkened with lust and his mouth fell open slightly, lips parted temptingly. Crowley couldn’t help himself, he leaned down and sucked on his lower lip as Aziraphale hummed. 

“Yes, you can,” Aziraphale answered breathlessly when Crowley pulled away. 

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to the exposed hollow of Aziraphale’s neck as he ran his hand down his clothed chest and belly. When he reached the hem of his nightshirt he shoved it up to his chest to get it out of the way and then let his fingers dance over the bulge in Aziraphale’s pants. He remembered how lovely it had looked the night before, how Aziraphale had thrust it between his thighs and came all over his hand, and Crowley whined at the memory. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Aziraphale breathed out and Crowley glanced up to find Aziraphale rapt at attention, watching his every move. 

“I’m thinking about how it felt to have you between my thighs last night,” Crowley admitted. “How warm you were.” 

Aziraphale smiled and Crowley drew down his underwear to free his cock, tentatively running his fingers up the underside of it. Aziraphale let out a breathy little moan and Crowley touched him firmly, gripping him and giving him a slow, exploring stroke. He took pride in the way Aziraphale’s hips hitched up in response, the soft skin of his cock sliding hot over Crowley’s palm. 

It was a little awkward handling him at this angle, since the only cock he’d ever touched was his own and obviously never from the front. He gave it a couple more strokes and then let it bob against Aziraphale’s stomach as he ran his hands up the inside of Aziraphale’s thighs. He didn’t miss the way goosebumps popped up on his skin and Crowley smiled when Aziraphale shivered and spread his legs a little more, welcoming the touch. 

He looked up at Aziraphale. “Show me how to best touch you?” 

Aziraphale smiled. “Of course. Here.” They shifted around, Aziraphale kicking off his underwear and pulling off his shirt as he moved to rest on his side. He motioned for Crowley to rest against his back. It was a familiar position, just reversed from the night before, and Aziraphale brought Crowley’s hand to his mouth and licked his palm. It startled him and Crowley made a surprised noise, Aziraphale snickering. 

“Well I wasn’t expecting you to lick my hand,” he grumbled. 

“It helps when things are slick, my dear.” Aziraphale coated his palm in spit and guided him down to wrap his hand around his cock. “From this angle everything should be a bit more familiar, hm?” 

“Yeah.” It was, and he had the added bonus of getting to grind his own erection against Aziraphale’s ass. He shuddered and began to stroke Aziraphale like he’d stroke himself. Crowley dipped his head down and kissed Aziraphale’s shoulder, then the side of his neck, and Aziraphale made a pleased sound. 

Aziraphale didn’t seem to be in any rush, allowing Crowley to stroke and rub him in different ways. He tested to see which angles and grips got the best gasps, or which ones made Aziraphale jerk harder into his hand. All the while he brushed his lips lazily over his jaw and neck, any bit of skin he could reach with his hand occupied. 

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale moaned and he smelled so damn good, like dark chocolate, and Crowley dipped down to suck at his scent gland, dark and bitter and wonderful. It drew a strangled, sharp moan out of Aziraphale’s throat and he tightened his grip on his cock, stroking tight and fast as he continued to suck. 

Then Aziraphale’s hand joined his, guiding him faster up and down his cock, pressing him tighter. “Yes, yes, just like that, oh,” then Aziraphale went rigid with a sharp gasp. Crowley bit down gently on his neck, just below his scent gland, and stroked Aziraphale through his orgasm. Finally, he pulled his hand away and Aziraphale relaxed in increments back against him. 

Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder, squeezing him from behind. He tried to ignore the way his own cock ached, nestled up perfectly against Aziraphale’s ass. 

“Here,” Aziraphale squirmed out of Crowley’s arms and retrieved his discarded nightshirt, using it to wipe the cum off of Crowley’s hand. He tossed it away and then nudged Crowley onto his back, leaning down to steal a series of warm kisses. “That was wonderful.” 

“Good.” Crowley drew him into a deeper kiss that quickly turned into a surprised gasp when Aziraphale found his cock through his underwear and palmed it. 

“Now let me show you something else, hm?” Aziraphale offered, smiling as he slid down Crowley’s body. He pressed soft, open mouthed kisses to Crowley’s quivering belly as he slid his underwear down to his knees. Crowley watched Aziraphale kiss each of his hip bones before he dipped in and dragged the heat of his tongue up the underside of Crowley’s cock. 

“Aziraphale!” Crowley let out a strangled, surprised shout and immediately gripped the sheets as sparks of electricity licked up through his nerves. Aziraphale looked absolutely impish as he took the head of Crowley’s cock into his mouth and laved his tongue against it. He threw his head back against the pillows and groaned, unfamiliar with the heat of it, with how wet and wonderful it all was. 

Then Aziraphale slid more of his cock into his mouth and against his tongue and Crowley had to reach down and squeeze the base of his cock in order to not come right then and there. He whimpered, trembling with the sensations as Aziraphale stilled and looked up at him. How anyone could look so beautiful with a cock in their mouth, Crowley wasn’t sure, but Aziraphale pulled it off. His eyes widened as Aziraphale slowly slid his mouth off of his cock, letting the head of it brush against his glistening lower lip. 

“Too much, love?” Aziraphale smirked, the bastard. 

“I’m.  _ Fuck _ , Aziraphale.” Crowley laughed and threw an arm over his eyes. “No one explained that when we were learning about sex and reproduction.” 

“No, I don’t imagine they would.” Aziraphale lazily kissed the underside of Crowley’s cock, paying special attention to the head as he worked his tongue over it. 

“I’m, er, if you do that again I’m not going to last very long.” 

“And?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose. “If you want it later, I’ll suck your cock again.” 

“You - oh,  _ oh _ .” How could Aziraphale  _ say _ things like that so casually? Sure, yes, he’ll just suck his cock again later if he wanted more. Maybe Crowley would have been more open to marriage if he’d known this was part of it. Though really, he had a suspicion Aziraphale was unique among Alphas and that he had somehow stumbled into being the luckiest man on the planet. 

“Would you like me to continue?” Aziraphale asked as he stroked him slowly and then, making sure Crowley watched, lapped up the bead of precome at his slit. 

“Yesss…” Crowley hissed it, closing his eyes against the gorgeous image Aziraphale offered him. “Please.” 

“As you wish my love,” Aziraphale murmured before Crowley was engulfed in the wet heat of him again, Aziraphale relentless as he bobbed his head. 

“Fuck,  _ fuck _ !” Crowley tried to jerk his hips up but Aziraphale held him with a steady hand and somehow that pressure made him come faster than he anticipated, shouting in surprise. Aziraphale swallowed him down, his tongue soothing him through the trembling as Crowley choked on the air and fisted the sheets. 

Aziraphale pulled off and pressed warm, settling kissing to the inside of his thighs and on his hips, hands smoothing over Crowley’s stomach. When he was finally able to relax, the waves of orgasm subsiding and mellowing, Aziraphale settled atop him and kissed him. They shared brushes of tongue and lips for a few moments before Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and pulled him close. 

They shifted so Crowley could kick off his underwear and they ended up wrapped up in each other, Crowley’s head nestled against the soft blonde hair on Aziraphale’s chest. “No mess that way, huh.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Only if you’re willing to swallow.” 

“Mmph.” Crowley still wasn’t sure about that, but he was too blissed out to think much more about it. “Can we take a nap now?” 

“I think we’ll be expected for breakfast soon,” Aziraphale admitted, lifting his head to look at something. Crowley’s best guess was the window, to see where the sun sat in the sky. “It is still early enough that we can rest for a little bit at least.” 

“I hope so because after that I don’t think I can move.” 

Aziraphale snorted. “You’re a delight. If you thought that was mind blowing I can’t wait to do it while I’ve got fingers inside of you.” 

Crowley shuddered and Aziraphale ran his hand up and down his back. That sounded...well. Enticing. Interesting. His cock tried to stir in interest but it was too soon and he was too satisfied. 

“How does that sound?” Aziraphale whispered hotly into his ear. “I think you’d like it.” 

Crowley turned his head and nuzzled Aziraphale’s cheek, then shifted so he could press their foreheads together. “With you I think I’ll like most things.” 

Aziraphale beamed at that. “Good.” 

They rested for a time, Crowley drifting while Aziraphale touched him gently. Finally, Aziraphale nudged him fully awake. 

“Come now, otherwise I’ll be tempted to keep you in bed all day.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” Crowley mumbled, but untangled himself from Aziraphale as his stomach rumbled. He rolled off the bed and stood, stretching, then glanced over to find Aziraphale sitting up on the bed with his eyes trained on him. “Er…” Crowley blushed. 

“Oh please, don’t stop on my account. You’re quite the sight.” 

“I’m…” He glanced down at himself, all skin and bones and a skinniness he could never escape. As a child he’d always been slighter than his classmates and the fact he’d grown tall as well as lanky never helped matters. “Alright.” 

Aziraphale scoffed and shook his head, climbing off the bed and moving to stand in front of Crowley, just as naked. Except where Crowley was skinny, Aziraphale was plush. He was round in all the right places, well fed and cared for, his muscles flexing with his movements. Crowley was captivated by it, fascinated, and shivered when Aziraphale’s hands rested against his chest. 

“You’re lovely,” Aziraphale insisted, kissing him on the lips, then on the jaw. “From your mane of fire to your beautiful toes.” He pressed their foreheads together and Crowley shut his eyes and let out a shuddering sigh. “I cannot wait to get the chance to touch every part of you, press my lips to the curve of your back and the inside of your knee, to hold your foot in my hand and trace the tendons and bones.” 

“You’re a sap,” Crowley grumbled as he moved to hide his face against Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“I am,” Aziraphale admitted, pressing a smiling kiss to his ear. “Now come, we should clean up and go down lest the Sergeant complain we let breakfast go to waste.” 

They scurried into the washroom and freshened up, changing into their clothes for the day. Crowley studied Aziraphale in his prim little suit over the table at breakfast, sipping coffee and reimagining what Aziraphale looked like without it on. As if he could sense his thoughts, Aziraphale looked up and smirked. Crowley flushed and picked up a piece of bacon to munch on. 

While Aziraphale tended to some business in his office, Crowley was given free reign of both of their rooms. He stepped into Aziraphale’s and looked around, running his hand over the top of the dresser, inspecting a few of the pictures that were on the walls. There was a particularly lovely painting of a park with a river and a gentleman feeding the ducks. He studied it for a long moment before he pulled himself away and glanced over at the bed. 

Alpha’s didn’t really build nests, not like Omegas did. But Aziraphale’s den was still cozy and the bed had more blankets and a few more pillows than was strictly necessary. With a thoughtful hum, Crowley walked back to his room and selected his two throw pillows and the first blanket Aziraphale had gifted him, returning to Aziraphale’s room to arrange them on the bed. 

For good measure he lifted one of the blankets already on the bed and rubbed his scent onto it, smiling as he set it gently back down. A few more trips back and forth yielded more of his comforts brought in and dumped on Aziraphale’s bed, including the one blanket he’d brought from home that still had his father’s scent on it. He hesitated, wondered if he should bring such things to his Alpha’s nest, and then worried that their scents would overpower it. 

Crowley clutched it to his chest and felt a little watery over it, thinking about giving up the one piece of his family pack he had. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale sounded concerned behind him and Crowley ducked his head in embarrassment. “Everything alright?” 

“Right as rain,” Crowley rasped out around the lump in his throat. Aziraphale made a concerned noise and stepped up behind him, putting an arm around his waist and pulling him back against his chest. 

“What’s wrong?” 

Crowley hesitated, not sure if sharing would somehow make him a terrible Omega. Finally, hands continuing to run over the blanket, he turned his head and pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s jaw. “This is a blanket my father gave me. It still has his scent on it. It...I don’t know. He used to sneak me scented things when I was a child long past the time I was supposed to have them.” 

“And that makes you sad?” Aziraphale asked without an ounce of the accusation Crowley expected. It was just a question. Aziraphale was trying to understand. 

“It makes me...I’m embarrassed. I’ve got you now, I shouldn’t be toting around childhood blankets with my father’s scent on them. And then I realized that if I put it in our bed it will get our scents on it and that might drown his out, and it is the only piece of him I have left, and I’m not sure if it is wrong to feel that way about a bloody blanket.” 

Aziraphale exhaled slowly and turned to press a kiss to Crowley’s forehead. “It has a pack scent on it,” he murmured. “It makes sense that you’d want to keep it. From what I can tell, you didn’t really get to have a proper pack.” 

“No.” If his mother had found out about the blanket he and his father would have both been in trouble. When he was a teenager he and his younger sister, Lilith, had exchanged scented items and it had earned them a stern lecture. They still swapped items in secret, yearning for the comfort of a pack, but Crowley always assumed it was the weakness of being an Omega that led him to it. Aziraphale made it sound like it was something he should have been allowed to experience. 

“You can either keep it in the other room to make sure it doesn’t lose your family scent,” Aziraphale offered, “or one of the empty drawers in here if you’d like. That should keep it safe enough and you can have access to it when you need it.” 

“Oh.” Crowley clutched the blanket to his chest and turned completely in Aziraphale’s embrace, pressing to him. “It won’t bother you?” 

“Why would it? Surely my scent shouldn’t be the only one that brings you comfort, just as I shouldn’t be the only one you connect with.” Aziraphale pet a hand through Crowley’s hair. “You’re allowed to love other people.” 

“You’re a strange Alpha.” 

Aziraphale laughed at that and wrapped his arms around Crowley. “You are not the first one to say that.” 

“I’m glad you’re strange.” Crowley settled into his arms. “Did you finish your work?” 

“Some. I still have a few more things to do, there’s a couple of contacts who are selling particularly interesting tomes I’d like to add to my collection, and someone else who is looking to buy.” 

“Could you take a break, help me with our nest?” 

“Of course.” Crowley basked in Aziraphale’s smile. “I would love to.” 

Crowley tucked the blanket from his father away in an empty drawer and with Aziraphale’s help, began moving more of his clothes and other items into the room. Every now and again he caught Aziraphale scenting an article of Crowley’s clothing and, when called on it, shrugged helplessly. 

“I want you to smell like me,” Aziraphale offered as an explanation. 

“When you’re working I’m going to go through your closet and rub my scent on everything,” Crowley replied with a snort. 

“You say that as if I wouldn’t be pleased by it.” Aziraphale stepped closer and drew Crowley into a kiss. “I like smelling like you.” 

“Mm.” Crowley kissed him again instead of replying. 

“I need to finish my work.” 

“Do you?” Crowley sighed dramatically, winding his arms around his neck. “Are you sure?” 

Aziraphale pressed Crowley gently up against the wall and kissed him again. “Almost certain.” 

“If you absolutely  _ must _ .” Crowley nuzzled his jaw. “I suppose I will finish making our nest.” 

“You are certainly working on a task more important than mine.” Aziraphale nuzzled him back and they exchanged scents and affection, warmth spreading through Crowley’s chest. He clung to Aziraphale a little tighter. 

“Alright?” Aziraphale whispered against his temple. Crowley nodded. 

“Just happy, I think.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” Aziraphale slid his arms down around Crowley’s waist and then hoisted him up. Crowley yelped in surprise as Aziraphale walked him over and dumped him into their nest, crawling on top of him to kiss him deeply. Of course Crowley gave in, pressing into it, pulling Aziraphale closer. 

“Angel,” Crowley murmured as his chin was nudged up and Aziraphale left a trail of hot kisses down his neck. 

Aziraphale hummed into his skin, licked teasingly at a scent gland, and then sat back. “I should get back to work.” He smiled like an imp and Crowley groaned. 

“You’re the devil,” he accused. 

“You’re the one who just called me an angel,” Aziraphale replied as he ran his hand over Crowley’s stomach and let it rest at his waist. “I was just giving you a preview for later.” 

“Oh yeah?” Crowley smiled at that, settling back into the bed. 

“Anything you want, my love. As much as you want.” With a quick peck on the lips Aziraphale slid off the bed. He squeezed Crowley’s ankle before he left the room, presumably back to work. Crowley lay there in their nest for a while, idly nuzzling into the blankets and pillows, arranging them in the way he liked best. 

Then he napped, because what else was there to do when he was warm and fuzzy from his head to his toes? He wanted to chase the feeling as long as he could, so he did. When he woke up the sun hung lower in the sky and he organized a few things before prowling downstairs. 

He slipped into the kitchen where Madame Tracy stood with a cadre of children explaining to them the finer points of baking bread. Crowley stopped dead in his tracks but it was too late, as four pairs of little eyes turned to him, eventually followed by Madame Tracy’s own gaze. She smiled. 

“Oh Crowley, good of you to join us. I don’t think you’ve met this lot yet.” 

“No, can’t say I have.” He crept forward, uncertain. 

“Well this one here, this is Adam.” She touched the top of a golden haired head as the boy stared at Crowley with a calculating look. “He’s Mister Young’s boy, the man who takes care of the stables part time. Then there’s Pepper,” she pointed to a dark haired girl. “Brian,” a dark haired boy, “and Wensleydale.” The last had a head of lighter brown hair and a pair of spectacles on his nose. 

“We’re The Them,” Adam insisted. “We’re a gang.” 

“A gang?” Crowley tried to bury the skepticism in his tone. “Well, quite an intimidating gang I’d say.” 

Pepper scowled at him. “You’re bein’ patronizing.” 

“I’m not,” Crowley shot back. He had been, but being called out on it by a child who knew the word patronizing was embarrassing. 

“Actually, I think you are,” Wensleydale supplied helpfully. “A lot of grown-ups are patronizing.” 

“We’re a proper gang though,” Adam spoke up. “We’ve got territory and everything. Greasy Johnson’s gang tried to take over our fort once and we chased them off and they haven’t tried again.” He puffed his chest up. 

“Can we go back to baking bread?” Brian asked. “The sooner we do that, the sooner we can go back outside to play.” 

“Oh hush,” Madame Tracy scolded with a smile. “You’ll be happy when you’re older and know how to make the basics you know. Now, shall we check to see if the dough has risen enough?” 

Just like that, Crowley was forgotten by everyone except Adam as they wandered over to where Madame Tracy had a bowl covered with a dish towel. Adam walked up to Crowley and gave him another evaluating look. 

“Are you Mister Aziraphale’s husband, then?” Adam asked. 

“I am.” Crowley fidgeted, realizing very quickly that this young boy was an Alpha. His scent wasn’t particularly strong and wouldn’t be until he hit puberty, but it was still there and it smelled like fresh cut grass. 

“Then you’re part of our pack now,” Adam announced, puffing up his chest. “Mister Aziraphale used to read us stories in the library but after he got married he said he didn’t have time, but now that you’re part of our pack maybe  _ both _ of you can read us stories.” 

He studied Adam’s face, so full of confidence and warmth, and couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being an extension of a kid-pack. 

“Adam, come on!” Pepper called out. “We get to punch the dough.” 

“I gotta go,” Adam nodded at him. “But I’ll see you soon, right Mister…” 

“Crowley.” 

“Mister Crowley.” Adam waved and then hurried over to his friends who were arguing about who got to punch the dough. He snorted and left the kitchen, lacking snacks but amused nonetheless. 

Aziraphale found him in the downstairs library later struggling through a short novel. He walked over to stand behind the armchair Crowley occupied and ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. Crowley leaned back into it and inhaled, taking in Aziraphale’s scent as he marked the book and closed it. 

“Good book?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley shrugged. “I’m not very far into it but it is interesting enough, I suppose.” When Aziraphale’s hands stilled in his hair he pushed his head into them. “Don’t stop.” 

Aziraphale chuckled and continued his gentle touches, loosely braiding Crowley’s hair. 

“I met The Them today,” Crowley murmured after quietly enjoying what was being done to his hair. “Interesting bunch.” 

“They’re good pups. Troublemakers, but as children that age should be.” 

“They said you used to read to them?” 

Aziraphale hummed. “I did. Then you came into my life and I decided you were slightly more important for the moment. I wasn’t sure how you’d take to a bunch of children invading our home, scenting the place up.” 

“The little Alpha, Adam, he said I’m part of their pack now.” He opened his eyes and looked up at Aziraphale who had a soft smile on his face. 

“Did he?” 

“Yeah. Seems to think now that I’m a member, the readings can start up again.” 

“Would you like that?” 

Crowley hesitated, then shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

“Do you like children?” 

“Honestly, other than my little sister I didn’t have much experience with them outside of being one. And you know how all that went.” He’d been ousted from his kid-pack early on and never found another, choosing to remain alone. It had been easier, but he wondered what it would have been like to have a kid-pack like Adam’s. A  _ gang _ . 

“They’re good kids. Inquisitive. They’ll drive you mad with questions.” 

“And you like it.” 

Aziraphale huffed. “Yes, to a degree. They’re a refreshing bunch to be around, if only because they’ve yet to experience the weight society puts on them. Their parents are good people, kind people, the sorts I’d prefer to spend my time with.” 

“You really don’t like the world we were born into, do you.” 

Aziraphale came around and bullied Crowley out of the chair, sitting down and pulling him into his lap. Crowley went willingly, snuggling against Aziraphale, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. 

“I think there’s a lot of things that are damaging and pointless,” Aziraphale admitted. “I don’t hate it, I just hope that I can minimize the damage it does to those who are a part of it. Our high society world holds so many misconceptions about relationships and intimacy. It pushes us into categories based on secondary genders and pressures us to do things we might not otherwise want to do, and to what end? To continue these baseless traditions?” 

Crowley reached up and drew his thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek, easing away the frown lines as his lips quirked up into a smile instead. 

“You’d be a good father,” Crowley whispered, before he hid his face in Aziraphale’s neck. 

“I’d like to make sure I’m a good partner first,” Aziraphale replied. “And a good community member. It is why I don’t mind the children running around the grounds, or sprawling across my library. If we can build a better world in this little corner of it, perhaps it’ll spread.” 

Crowley squirmed and then reached up to tilt Aziraphale’s head so he could kiss him, overflowing with affection. Here was someone who so easily put words to what Crowley had thought for so long, like it was obvious, like it was second nature to him. Aziraphale hummed and kissed him back, threading his fingers through Crowley’s hair and messing up his braid. It was slow and warm and didn’t need to lead anywhere, so Crowley indulged until he needed to catch his breath and nuzzled his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

They had dinner later that evening, and when they went to bed in their new nest Aziraphale showed Crowley just how clever he could be with his fingers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday unless I'm otherwise convinced! 
> 
> You can come hang out with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/) to see what else I'm up to.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has to travel and Crowley begins to admit some of his feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The people have spoken! To celebrate over 100 followers on Twitter, I'm doing a bonus update of Seared into Skin! Thank you for all of your ongoing support in my writing endeavors. I love you! 
> 
> More spice. Check the tags.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to travel next week,” Aziraphale murmured into Crowley’s hair, the two of them naked and snuggled together in bed. It was early, far too early to be thinking about travel plans, and Crowley grumbled as much. 

Aziraphale chuckled and carded his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “If you wish to come you can, of course, but it will be dreadfully boring and we won’t really have time to socialize. I’d be happy to have you, but you may be more comfortable here.” 

That got Crowley’s attention and he huffed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes in order to peer blearily up at Aziraphale. “Is this your way of telling me you’re leaving me for a few days.” 

“More like a week, if you wish to stay. Otherwise you can join me.” Aziraphale shrugged. “Up to you. I just don’t want you to feel obligated if you’d be more comfortable staying home.” 

It would be the first time they had been apart for a night since they were married, and certainly the first night they wouldn’t be sleeping in the same nest in over a month. Crowley frowned. Aziraphale kissed it away, stroking the side of his face. 

“You can’t distract me from this,” Crowley groused. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“Is that what you think?” Aziraphale sounded playfully offended. “I just wanted to kiss my husband whom I care for so dearly…” His mouth trailed over Crowley’s throat and he groaned, shoving his head back into the pillows. 

“Devil,” Crowley accused. 

“So you keep saying, yet I’m also an angel.” Aziraphale bit gently at his pulse. 

Crowley ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair and tugged gently to get him to look up. Aziraphale complied. “You are my angel,” he murmured and drew him into a kiss. “And while I don’t like the thought of you being away, I suppose it is better than sitting on a horse or in a carriage.” 

“Now you’re seeing sense.” 

“A whole week though?” Crowley frowned. 

“Depends on travel, really. The deal itself should take a day. If I go on horseback alone I should be able to make it a quicker trip.” 

Crowley pulled him down into a soft kiss, sighing against his mouth. They had just really started to get to know each other in so many ways and he wasn’t ready for that to pause. 

“I thought I’d ask my cousin and her husband to stay with you.” Aziraphale kissed his nose and then each of his cheeks. “If you’d like the company. They’ve been eager to meet you.” 

“Your cousin?” 

“Anathema. She’s not a cousin by blood but her great grandmother and my great grandmother on my mother’s side were very good friends. So our families grew up together.” Aziraphale smiled. “I think you’d like her, and she’s found a nice young man.” 

There was a small part of Crowley that rebelled and snapped at the thought that he needed a babysitter, that he couldn’t spend time alone away from Aziraphale. That used to be his entire existence after all: loneliness. But there was another part that saw the earnestness in Aziraphale’s eyes, the belief that Crowley would enjoy the company, and that snapping, snarling rebel inside of him quieted. 

“I’d like that, I think.” 

Aziraphale face lit up. “Excellent. I’ll send the letter later today. I dearly hope you like them, I’m rather fond of Anathema. It was a shame I wasn’t allowed to invite guests to the wedding or you could have met her there.” 

Crowley tried not to think about their wedding day and pulled Aziraphale into another kiss to distract himself from it. Aziraphale hummed and licked into his mouth, cupping Crowley’s face as his thumb traced along his cheek. Crowley let his hands rest against Aziraphale’s shoulder blades, fingers following the line of the bones and then down as far as he could reach along his spine. 

Eased onto his back, Crowley bit Aziraphale’s lower lip in surprise when their hips pressed together, both of them half-hard. He huffed a laugh against Aziraphale’s mouth, his Alpha growling softly, possessively. 

“Hello,” Crowley murmured, tilting his head as Aziraphale nipped at his ear. 

“Now  _ I’m _ reconsidering going on the trip,” Aziraphale grumbled as he kissed a spot beneath Crowley’s ear. “I hope you know I don’t wish to leave you.” 

“I know,” Crowley insisted, turning to push their foreheads together so he could look into Aziraphale’s eyes. “I’m not going to lie to you, I doubt it sometimes. I’m still anxious. This is all still so new but...I trust you.” 

Aziraphale looked at him a bit helplessly. “I love you, my dear Crowley. I...I hope I’ve shown you that. I’ll endeavor to keep showing you that.” 

Crowley flushed, suddenly very warm as he threw his arms around Aziraphale and hugged him close. He wasn’t quite ready to say the words back, despite the way his heart hammered the message against his ribs, but he hoped Aziraphale knew. Even if he was still too much of a coward to admit it. 

Aziraphale led Crowley into another kiss, which led to hands trailing over warm skin as their hips were pressed together. 

“Mm, angel,” Crowley tilted his head back as Aziraphale’s mouth descended, leaving kisses down his neck and then over his collarbone, sliding down to take one of his nipples into his mouth. Crowley arched up into it with a whimper, one of his hands making itself at home in Aziraphale’s hair while the other groped for a nearby pillow. He curled his fingers in it, relaxed against his Alpha’s mouth, and let out a breathy little sigh when Aziraphale moved to the other nipple. 

He liked being doted on like this, even if it was accompanied by a degree of guilt. Aziraphale was the more experienced of the two, able to guide and teach, but Crowley was so rarely able to take the reins. Even when he did it was with questions on his tongue, Aziraphale’s hands guiding his to show him what to do. It was easier, but his mind easily got away from him, dipping into the fire of anxiety kindled by the thought that Aziraphale was going to leave. 

When had he become so needy? So attached? 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s face was in front of him, a hand tender against his cheek. “Too much?” 

Crowley swallowed around the lump in his throat and leaned in to touch their lips together. “I’m being needlessly emotional,” he admitted, his voice dripping with shame. 

“No, my love, no,” Aziraphale nuzzled their noses together and Crowley dipped his head to rub his cheek against the source of Aziraphale’s scent, whining quietly. “You can come with me, if that’s what’s bothering you. I just thought you’d be more comfortable here…” 

“I would,” Crowley admitted, and it was easier to talk when he could hide his face against Aziraphale’s neck and breathe him in. “Ngk. I want  _ you _ , Alpha.” 

Aziraphale’s chest rumbled with a soft, possessive growl. “You have me. You are mine. My Omega, no one else’s.” There was a moment of consideration before Aziraphale gently nudged Crowley. “Roll onto your stomach.” 

“Angel?” 

“Trust me.” He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s shoulder and then held himself up on his arms so Crowley could roll beneath him, the fabric of the sheets smooth against his belly. It was easier to push his face into one of the pillows, to hide as he brought it close, inhaling Aziraphale’s lingering scent.  _ Their _ scents, really, woodfire and cinnamon caught in the fabric too. 

“I told you once I’d kiss you everywhere,” Aziraphale said as he dropped a kiss to the nape of Crowley’s neck. “I’d like to make good on part of that promise.” He ran his hand over the rise of Crowley’s shoulders and then down over the curve of his lower back before resting that hand on the bed by Crowley’s hip. 

Aziraphale’s mouth followed his hand’s trail. He started at the back of one of Crowley’s shoulders and left searing kisses on his skin. Sometimes he’d pause to suck and bite and Crowley pressed his face harder into the pillow with a little pleased sound. His Alpha was marking him and Crowley relaxed more with each new kiss. 

“I’ll do this every night,” Aziraphale promised against one of the nobs of his spine. “I’ll leave you covered in reminders of me up until I go so you won’t forget that you’re mine.” 

Crowley shuddered, grinding his hips into the mattress as Aziraphale’s promise went straight to his cock. The hand near his hip moved to rest on it, stilling him. 

“Not yet,” Aziraphale whispered, his breath tickling across the sensitive skin of his lower back before he bit down again. He sucked the tender spot immediately after and Crowley arched into the heat of his mouth since the bed was off limits, whining. 

Aziraphale took his time, mapping out Crowley’s back and shoulders with his mouth. Anytime Crowley’s hips moved to jerk into the sheets he was held firmly still with a reassuring squeeze to his hip. He needed to submit, turn himself over, and a primal part of him wanted to flop over and reveal his throat, offer it up for a bite that would bind them both. 

He didn’t, though. He wasn’t that far gone, not quite that lost to the Alpha’s soft mouth and softer touches. Aziraphale placed a kiss on his tailbone and then guided him onto his knees, steadying him when he swayed a little, unbalanced. Finally, Crowley settled, and a shiver ran up his spine as Aziraphale parted the cheeks of his arse and gently ghosted a dry finger over him. 

“Alpha?” Crowley’s mind was fuzzy, but the touch brought him back into the moment. 

“Trust me, Omega.” His finger disappeared and it was replaced by the wet heat of his tongue and Crowley cried out in surprise. He scrambled for the pillow again, pressed his hands into the soft give of it, and tried very, very hard not to thrust into the air. Aziraphale’s tongue was steady and assured, working the muscle that was already slightly slick from his previous attentions. 

Crowley didn’t make much if any slick while not in heat, but his body now yearned to make a way for his Alpha. He shuddered and pressed back against Aziraphale’s mouth and he growled, a pleased little sound, as his hands gripped Crowley’s hips firmly and he pressed in deeper. His tongue slipped just barely inside of him before pulling back as he massaged him with it. 

Aziraphale teased like that for a while, tongue only ever barely pressing in before withdrawing. Sometimes he’d slip down to the tender skin above his balls. Wherever he touched, pleasure followed, and Crowley’s cock leaked with his excitement. 

“What do you think, my love?” Aziraphale asked as he pressed a gentle kiss to his tailbone. “Would you like to come around my fingers?” 

Crowley considered it but then shuddered when he realized what he really wanted. “I want you, I think,” he murmured, face hot. 

“You think?” Aziraphale hummed and ran his hands over the backs of Crowley’s thighs, then down his calves. “I’ll give you whatever you’d like.” 

“Then I want you.” Crowley tilted his head to try and look at Aziraphale, but he was at the wrong angle. Instead, he just wiggled his hips a bit and Aziraphale chuckled. 

Warm hands pressed against his ass and kneaded thoughtfully, spreading them and then letting them go. Once more, the dry pad of Aziraphale’s thumb pressed against him before all touch was gone and the bed creaked. “Stay for a moment,” Aziraphale insisted and Crowley was finally able to see him, eyes trained on Aziraphale’s rear as he dug through a drawer. 

When he returned to the bed he was carrying a familiar jar and Crowley tensed in anticipation before letting it drain out of him with a slow exhale. Aziraphale ran his hand down Crowley’s back before he settled behind him again and this time when his finger touched him, it was slick and pressed into him easily. 

“Oh.” Crowley shivered and pressed into the intrusion. It was all familiar. Just the previous evening Aziraphale had brought him off with his mouth on his cock and his fingers working inside of him. 

“You’re gorgeous like this,” Aziraphale mused as he moved the finger smoothly in and out, Crowley enjoying every drag and catch. A second one was added, slick and stretching, and Crowley arched his back in a stretch with a pleased noise before relaxing and pushing back. “Opening for me, stretching around my fingers. One day I’d like to give you my knot, fill you until you’re bound to me.” 

“ _ Alpha _ ,” Crowley exhaled as he closed his eyes and imagined what that might be like, to be so full of Aziraphale he could do nothing except rest against him. He breathed in the heady scent of cocoa, darker and slightly bitter when they were together like this, arousal deepening the scent. Aziraphale had told him he smelled more like smoke than burning wood when they were together, still spiced with a bite of cinnamon. 

“For now, I’ll sate myself on this. Thank you for trusting me with it. You’re beautiful.” 

“Angel.” Crowley whined and closed his eyes. 

“I know.” Aziraphale’s free hand ran up and down Crowley’s side, his palm soft and comforting. He slid a third finger in and Crowley bucked back against it, fucking himself on them as Aziraphale put in minimal effort. It was nice, the pressure of being filled scratched an itch that lived deep within Crowley’s hips. He liked clenching around Aziraphale’s fingers, enjoyed the way Aziraphale pushed them in against the tension anyway, and then searing white pleasure shot through him when his fingers were angled just right. 

“I’m ready, please,” Crowley mumbled. He was ready. Aziraphale had opened him up with his fingers enough now that he was sure he was ready for this, to consummate what they already had in a far more intimate way. His Alpha, taking him gently. 

The fingers were removed and Aziraphale ran his hands over whatever skin he could reach from his position. “Would you like it like this my dear, or would you prefer to be on your back?” 

It was easier to hide his face in this position. He could reveal a little less to Aziraphale. But this was about opening up, wasn’t it? About coming together, two becoming truly one, about trusting his Alpha enough to be with him like this. Crowley swallowed around his doubt and shifted around so he could settle on his back. 

When he did, he found Aziraphale’s smiling face. “This is my preference too, if I’m honest. I like being able to see your eyes.” He grabbed a pillow and tucked it beneath Crowley’s hips, easing the angle as he rearranged his legs and settled between them. Aziraphale leaned over and captured Crowley’s lips in a kiss, rutting their cocks together, rocking against him and giving him a tease of what was to come. 

Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and held him close, kissing him with all tongue and lips and mess, not caring one bit. Aziraphale eventually pulled back, smoothing his hand down Crowley’s chest and over his belly. He took him in hand and stroked him a couple times, just enough to keep him interested, before he moved to line himself up. 

“We take this at your pace, my love,” Aziraphale reminded him. “If you need me to slow down or stop you say so.” 

“I know.” Crowley reached for Aziraphale’s hand and it was given to him so he could bring it up to his mouth and kiss it, lips pressing to the palm and then the pad of each of his fingers. Aziraphale laced their hands together and brought them down to rest joined at Crowley’s hip. 

“Lovely,” Aziraphale smiled, eyes roaming from Crowley’s face down to his hips before he used his free hand to line himself up. “Deep breath.” 

Crowley obeyed, taking a deep breath and letting it out. Aziraphale slid the slick head of his cock into him then, the way eased by his generous preparation. It was still a new feeling, something blunt and hard and unyielding. Crowley took another deep breath and let it out. Aziraphale squeezed his hand and murmured soft praises, things like ‘that’s right’ and ‘relax’, followed by ‘oh you feel glorious’. Crowley shut his eyes and accepted the praise, focusing on the way his body tensed and relaxed, trying to memorize the sensation of being penetrated like this. 

Aziraphale was slow and generous, easing in halfway before he pulled back. The drag was fantastic and novel and Crowley lifted his hips into it a bit, twitching. There wasn’t  _ pleasure _ persay, not in the same way there was when Aziraphale stroked him or put his mouth on him. But the sensations were pleasant and interesting, complex and hot. It was all about pressure and tension, the drag of soft flesh against even softer flesh with sensitive nerves. 

A rumbling growl started in Aziraphale’s chest and Crowley opened his eyes to peer up at him, taking in his Alpha’s clouded blue eyes and the look of absolute adoration on his face. He pressed back in, this time all the way until he was fully seated, and Crowley squirmed and gasped. His head fell back against the pillows and he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand where it rested still joined to his. 

It was slow going, but Crowley learned how to ease into Aziraphale’s careful thrusts as they found their own intimate rhythm. Aziraphale didn’t let go of his hand, his free hand resting on Crowley’s other hip as he worked into him and then back out. Through half lidded eyes Crowley watched Aziraphale move, taking in the shift of his belly and the way his thighs tensed with his rocking. Crowley squirmed and changed the angle a bit, hitching his hips further up on the pillow and  _ that _ was the ticket. 

“Aziraphale!” He gasped in surprise, hips jerking into the movement as Aziraphale slid home again. “Oh shit, oh shit, there.” Sparks of electricity danced across his nerves, his muscles tensing and relaxing of their own volition with every thrust as Aziraphale began really moving. “Oh fuck.” Crowley whined loudly, baring his throat, and Aziraphale finally released his hand in order to plant both of his own near Crowley’s shoulders. He leaned down and bit at Crowley’s neck and Crowley wrapped his legs around Aziraphale’s hips to encourage him forward. 

They moved together and Crowley got lost in it. The rest of the world fell away and his whole existence became points of contact between him and his Alpha. Their bellies brushed, Aziraphale’s rubbing against his cock to remind him that he was still half hard and wanting. Aziraphale’s mouth left wet trails along the line of his throat, his teeth digging into his pulse. Crowley’s hands made their home against Aziraphale’s back, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. 

The bed creaked beneath them as they moved together, Aziraphale thrusting firmly and quickly. Crowley’s body gave way beneath his, opening to him, taking him in as he cried out and gasped with it. He yelped and cried out ‘please’ when Aziraphale’s hand crept between their bodies and began to stroke him. 

“That’s right Crowley, Anthony, my love, my Omega,” Aziraphale whispered into his ear as they were lost to their shared movements. “You’re gloriously tight and so, so hot. Oh I’m going to fill you up, but I want to see you come first. I want you to spill over my hand.” 

“Alpha,” Crowley groaned, breathless. He buried his face against Aziraphale’s neck and lapped at one of his scent glands, tasting him and smelling him. Everything was Aziraphale, and he was safe. Safe and loved and oh - Crowley made a strangled noise as he realized how close he was. How badly he wanted to come. 

“That’s it, that’s it,” Aziraphale growled, his chest rumbling against Crowley’s. “Come for me.” He tightened his grip and his thrusts were firm and fast. He drove into Crowley and they squirmed together, getting into an angle that had Crowley barreling toward climax. 

He finally came with a shout, tipped over the edge by Aziraphale’s cock inside of him and his hand working frantically over his cock. Hot pleasure erupted from his hips and resonated outward, his body tensing and twitching as each wave rolled over him. He babbled, aware that nonsense words and sounds were falling from his lips. He was also distinctly aware of the drag of Aziraphale’s knot against his hole and for a faint moment he considered asking to be knotted. 

Before he could get the words out though, Aziraphale growled above him and bit down on his shoulder as his hips jerked and Crowley realized each thrust pushed cum out of him, hot and dripping against his ass. Aziraphale kissed the spot he’d bitten as his thrusts finally eased, becoming lazy rolls of his hips as his knot butted up against Crowley’s arse, too large to slide inside of him. 

“Omega,” Aziraphale purred, pressing his lips to Crowley’s scent gland, kissing and lapping at it. 

“Alpha,” Crowley breathed out, fond and overwhelmed. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, Aziraphale still half inside of him even as he began to soften. Crowley fought to catch his breath and sought out one of Aziraphale’s hands, the one that wasn’t covered in a mess. He laced their fingers together and brought their joined hands up to his cheek, pressing it to the back of Aziraphale’s hand. 

The room was filled with the sound of their breathing and their sex-heavy scents and Crowley wanted to live in that moment forever. Unfortunately, as his body cooled he could feel Aziraphale’s cum leaking out of him uncomfortably and he let out a soft whimper. He made to move, to shift and perhaps head for the washroom, but he was pressed down with a hand on his chest. 

“Angel?” He mumbled, his mouth barely working. 

“Stay,” Aziraphale growled, nuzzling along Crowley’s jaw. “It is my job to clean you up.” 

“Oh.” He relaxed, but shivered when Aziraphale’s warmth left him. It wasn’t gone long thankfully, as Aziraphale returned and began to run a soft, warm cloth over the inside of his thighs and against his arse. Crowley blushed with it, squirming, but Aziraphale placed a kiss on his stomach and he let out a slow breath and let him work. 

Once he was as clean as he could get down below, Aziraphale disappeared and reappeared, having rinsed the cloth so he could wipe up the mess on Crowley’s stomach. When he was wiped clean, Aziraphale bullied him under the blankets and curled around him from behind, a possessive arm over his waist. 

Crowley huffed, but didn’t point out that they’d have to get up soon and get breakfast. He was too comfortable, too sated, and snuggled back into his Alpha’s arms. Aziraphale’s scent had returned to its normal soothing cocoa and vanilla and it surrounded him, dragging him back into sleep. Some part of him realized this had to be instinct, perhaps something to ease the fact this sort of thing normally ended in a knot, but whatever the case he basked in it. 

“Aziraphale?” He mumbled after a few moments of silence. 

“Yes?” Aziraphale kissed him behind the ear. 

“That was really good.” Crowley bit his lower lip and tried not to laugh, still awed by how good it had been. 

“Mm.” Aziraphale kissed his neck and then his shoulder. “Good. It should be. That’s what this all is supposed to be. Good.” 

Crowley squirmed to try and press as much of himself back against Aziraphale as he could, eyes falling shut. Everything he’d feared for so long about being with an Alpha hadn’t come to pass. Aziraphale wasn’t some mindless beast, aiming to claim him. He was a kind, considerate man, his  _ husband _ , and Crowley was overwhelmed with it. 

“I think I love you,” Crowley whispered. 

“I’m glad,” Aziraphale replied, rubbing his cheek to the back of Crowley’s head. “But perhaps you ought to see if you feel the same way when you haven’t been thoroughly seen to and are high on endorphins, hm?” Aziraphale’s chest rumbled with a laugh as Crowley laughed, too. 

“I think even then,” he said after the laughter had died down. 

Aziraphale’s lips curved into a smile against his shoulder as he laid another kiss there. “I love you and I will endeavor to prove it to you every day. Now rest. We have time.” 

Crowley smiled and closed his eyes, drifting. At some point the telltale vibrations in his chest started and his purr filled the room. The last thing he registered was Aziraphale’s hand slipping up to rest flat against his chest, a comforting weight dragging him into sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday! 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/) to see WIPs and my other inane ramblings!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley spends time with Anathema and Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is Wednesday! You all have my ongoing thanks and love for your continued support, encouragement, and comments! Be sure to check out the end notes for a handful of fics I posted as part of a prompt fill event, that were just revealed over the weekend!

Crowley was nervous. Anathema and Newt were set to arrive later that afternoon and Aziraphale would head out the following morning. The trip, he said, should now only take a total of five days assuming the weather favored him and he didn’t have to make any unnecessary stops. He only had to survive five days without him, and try not to alienate two people Aziraphale clearly considered to be family. 

His stomach was in knots over it. He lay in their nest, face pressed into a soft blanket that smelled like them as Aziraphale attended to his early morning routine. Crowley managed to doze in between bouts of nervous thoughts, forcing himself to take steady breaths to relax. 

A hand rested against the back of his neck and he flinched, then sighed. It was Aziraphale. He could smell him, the scent as comforting as a blanket as it settled over him. Aziraphale slipped up behind him, curving against his back as he rested an arm across his waist. 

“You’re anxious,” Aziraphale murmured into his ear before he kissed the spot just under it. “Care to share, my dear?” 

Crowley stretched and pressed back into Aziraphale. “What if I make a terrible impression on your cousin?” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Oh, once you meet her I think she’ll take care of those concerns rather quickly. Anathema is not someone you have to worry that much about.” 

Crowley begged to differ, given she was an Alpha and he was an Omega and there was bound to be tension, but he decided not to contest it. Maybe Aziraphale was right and he was worried over nothing.

“Come now,” Aziraphale kissed his temple. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed at your concerns. I will be here when she arrives and if it seems like it is going to be a terrible five days, then we’ll reevaluate.”

“You’d give up business because I can’t handle myself?” 

“Darling,” Aziraphale sat up and leaned over him, trying to catch his eye. “What makes you think you won’t be as charming as you always are?” 

“I’m not charming.” He grumbled and hid his face in the blanket. 

“You are.” Aziraphale pressed featherlight kisses all over the patches of skin he could reach and Crowley could feel the curve of his lips. He was smiling. It made Crowley huff loudly in an attempt to get Aziraphale to understand just how put upon he was. “I think she’ll like you. Do you trust me?” 

“I don’t trust  _ me _ .” 

“Can you tell me why?” 

“No.” He flopped onto his back and stared up at Aziraphale. “Maybe. I’ve just not had good experiences with  _ friends _ .” As in, he hadn’t had any. Not since he was young. 

Aziraphale reached up and brushed his thumb over his cheek before he leaned in to kiss him. “Anathema is not like most people you probably ran across when you were young, my love. But to answer your earlier question yes, I’d ask the seller to reschedule and try for a meeting later if you really didn’t want her to be here. Or I’d send her away and you can remain here with Madame Tracy and the Sergeant.” 

He didn’t want any of that. He wanted to stay with  _ Aziraphale _ . Reaching up, Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and pulled him down until they were pressed together. Aziraphale huffed a warm breath against his jaw but settled his weight, nuzzling. 

“I love you, my dear boy,” Aziraphale murmured to him and it sent heat coursing through him.

They lay in each other’s embrace for a time, despite Crowley still wearing his pajamas and Aziraphale already half dressed for the day. He needed the sense of comfort and safety more than he had previously. Crowley no longer liked the feeling that he would be alone. 

Unfortunately their time in bed couldn’t last forever and Aziraphale bullied him out of the nest, sending him off to get cleaned up and clothed. They had breakfast together, Crowley went through the process of watering and caring for his plants, and the afternoon found them settled together on the couch reading. 

Madame Tracy appeared in the doorway. “Boys, I do believe Mrs. Device and her fine young lad are due to arrive in a moment.”

Crowley shared a look with Aziraphale before they reluctantly untangled themselves, Aziraphale putting his book away. His stomach was in knots as he followed Aziraphale out of the room and to the front of the house to don their boots and greet their guests. What if he made a fool of himself? What if he wasn’t personable enough? 

Aziraphale’s hand was a steady comfort against his lower back as he leaned in and whispered to him. “You’ll be fine.” 

“You say that now.” 

Rolling his eyes, Aziraphale kissed his temple and they both watched the carriage approach. The driver got out to open the door as a young woman with cascading dark hair climbed out on her own, followed by a tall, lanky man with a mop of light brown hair. The woman - Anathema, he presumed - broke into a lovely smile. 

“Aziraphale!” 

“Anathema.” Aziraphale stepped away from Crowley to meet her halfway, greeting her with a hug and a little spin. She laughed with it. Newt, as he clearly couldn’t be anyone else, lingered behind them and greeted Aziraphale with a sturdy handshake. Crowley watched and then stiffened when Aziraphale turned and Anathema’s eyes fell on him. 

“And you must be Crowley. Aziraphale has mentioned you in his letters.” She approached him, rested her hands on his arms, and gave him a once over before she squeezed his arms and smiled. “I hear you’ve been treating my cousin well.” 

“Er, I suppose.” His cheeks were red, he was sure of it. Having another Alpha this close was a bit overwhelming. She smelled like the forest, like the sun on damp moss. 

“Oh.” She took a few steps back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have rushed in and touched you without asking.” 

“It’s alright,” he was quick to insist, not wanting to make a bad first impression. “I’m just not really used to it.” Crowley glanced helplessly over at Aziraphale who offered him a smile that helped a few of the knots in his stomach unwind. 

“Right, well I’m Anathema and this is my husband, Newt.” 

Newt stepped up and offered his hand with a gentle incline of his head. “Nice to meet you, Crowley.” 

Crowley took his hand and shook it. Newt smelled like tangerines, or an orange rind freshly peeled. It was nice, and Newt was so calm. 

“Shall we head inside? Madame Tracy was preparing tea for us and I’d like to do some catching up.” Aziraphale motioned toward the front door. 

“Of course! We’re starving.” Anathema grinned and led the way, Newt following. Crowley was last, Aziraphale slowing to take his hand and lace their fingers together. 

Maybe he wouldn’t screw it up after all. 

Anathema made it difficult to worry, her wit dry and her self-consciousness nonexistent. Aziraphale quizzed her about her adventures into the world of the occult as Anathema shared her experiences cleansing houses and helping set up good energies for folks who claimed her services. She came from old money, like Aziraphale, and it left her free to pursue her passions. 

“What do you do?” Crowley asked Newt as Aziraphale and Anathema entertained each other. Newt smiled. 

“I tinker. Lately I’ve been trying to figure out clocks.” 

“Oh?” 

“There’s something nice about working with small mechanical pieces, trying to figure out how to get them to go together, to create a larger thing.” Newt smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose. “How about you?” 

Crowley wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t have a trade. His whole purpose in life was to get married, to rear children. His parents hadn’t really cared about anything outside of a basic education. University hadn’t ever been on the table. 

“I like plants?” Crowley offered. 

“That sounds like a question.” 

“I like plants.” Crowley dropped the inflection. “I’ve got a plant room upstairs that I keep, and once the weather is better I’m hoping to work out in the garden on the grounds.” 

“Do you do any arrangements?” 

“I haven’t.” Crowley thought about it though, wondered what it would be like to grow flowers and arrange them. He was excited to see the Azaleas, to try and arrange some of them around the grounds outside of their designated place to add splashes of color. The thought was appealing. “I could, though.” 

“I don’t have a mind for colors,” Newt admitted. “What kind of plants do you like best?” 

Newt was an easy sort to get along with, Crowley found. He explained the plants he had upstairs, the ones he’d like to keep one day. Eventually they joined back in with Aziraphale and Anathema’s conversation, both of them apologizing for taking time to catch-up. Crowley didn’t mind, which surprised him. He had enjoyed his conversation. 

When evening came they took up spots in the library. Aziraphale had agreed to read to them at Anathema’s insistence. Crowley got the place of honor, snuggled up against his side. Anathema was in a similar position, resting against Newt’s chest. Their mingling scents - chocolate and citrus, earth and spice - created a sense of calm in the room. 

Crowley had never experienced anything quite like it. 

“How do you feel, my dear?” Aziraphale asked later when they were curled around each other in their nest, Crowley breathing in Aziraphale’s scent and trying to memorize it. 

“I like them,” he admitted. It didn’t erase his nerves, but Anathema and Newt were different than other married couples he’d been forced to interact with. For one, Anathema wasn’t a blustering sort of Alpha. That alone went far in easing the tension. 

“Good. I hoped you would. Anathema is very dear to me.” 

Crowley hummed and closed his eyes. “I’m still going to miss you.” 

“That’s alright.” Aziraphale kissed his neck. “I’ll miss you too, very dearly, but I’ll make it up to you once I’m back. We ought to go to London, see a play.” 

Crowley rolled over in Aziraphale’s embrace. “I’ve never been to London.” 

“Hush - that can’t be right. Surely your parents took you?” 

“Nope.” Crowley leaned in and pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s, closing his eyes. “They didn’t think the city was good for me or my sister. Too many folks without patches, too many scents, too much potential for conflict.” 

Aziraphale’s hand came up to rest against the side of Crowley’s face. “Your parents are rather misinformed about the world, aren’t they.” 

“I’m learning that’s an understatement.” 

“Well, I’ll take you to London and show you how lovely it can be. I promise.” He stole a kiss and Crowley smiled into it. 

“That sounds like a good plan.” 

They slept, and come morning Crowley rolled out of bed early to see Aziraphale off. Newt was still in bed, but Anathema was there to say goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon, my love,” Aziraphale insisted, leaning in to kiss him. “You’ll hardly notice my absence.” 

Crowley huffed. “I doubt that. Come home soon, and good luck getting your books.” 

Aziraphale rode off, leaving Crowley and Anathema standing at the front of the house. 

“Come on.” Anathema nudged him and when he glanced over, she smiled. “I could use some coffee.” 

It was early and Crowley liked the sound of that, so he followed her back inside. Madame Tracy was already up, an early riser, and had tea and coffee set out for them. Crowley dropped into a seat at the table and lifted a cup of tea, sipping it as Anathema sat opposite of him and prepared coffee. 

“You’re welcome to return to bed if you’d like,” Anathema offered. “I don’t mean to keep you up. Once I’m up, I’m up for the long haul. I don’t have to drag you down with me.” 

“Do you...er. Want me to go to bed?” Crowley tried not to fidget in his seat. Was this her way of politely asking for space? No, it couldn’t be. Why else would she have invited him for coffee? 

“No, no! Of course not. I just...I didn’t want you to feel  _ obligated _ . I know how it can be sometimes, when there are guests. But I’d like you to eventually think of me as a family instead of a guest, that you should go about your usual routine without feeling like you need to entertain me.” Her smile was kind and he read it as genuine. What a strange woman she was, especially as an Alpha. 

Even stranger was her willingness to be treated like anything less than a guest. Crowley wasn’t sure if Aziraphale would approve. Thinking further on it, he realized he didn’t really have a routine outside of his husband anyway. Of course Aziraphale encouraged him to share the things he wanted to do in a day, but most of it was spent following Aziraphale’s lead, glad to merely be near him and with him whatever he wanted to do. 

Crowley was at a loss. It must have shown because Anathema grimaced. 

“I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth somehow, haven’t I? It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

“No, I just…” Crowley frowned. “This is our first time apart, Aziraphale and I, and I’m not quite sure what to do with myself if I’m being honest.” 

Anathema looked him over and appeared to be evaluating him. He wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing until her gentle smile broke into a grin. “Let’s go on an adventure, then.” 

“An adventure?” He thought of the times he and his sister slipped out of their home during their lessons, hiding from their tutors in the woods off of the estate. They’d gotten into so much trouble, and after that their parents put up a fence around the property. That was the last time he’d really had an adventure. 

“There’s a village nearby I’m sure Aziraphale’s taken you to. We could go there, he left the carriage after all. We can see where the day takes us.” 

It sounded...different. But exciting. He had gone to the village with Aziraphale and it hadn’t been a big to-do. Aziraphale had purchased him plants and a book as a courting gift and just thinking about those gifts sent warmth curling through him pleasantly. Perhaps he could find a book Aziraphale would like, return the favor when his husband returned. 

Going to the village became more appealing by the second. 

“Sure,” he smiled over the edge of his teacup. “I think that sounds like a good way to spend the day.” 

“Excellent. I’ll bother Newt when he’s awake and we’ll make it happen.” 

They geared up in the carriage after the sun had risen higher in the sky, the day warm and comfortable. Crowley watched the countryside pass by, far more content in the carriage than he had been on the back of a horse. The Sergeant was driving, grousing to the horses from where he sat. 

“A lovely day for it,” Newt remarked. “To be out and about, you know.” 

“Yes.” Crowley thought about Aziraphale and hoped the weather was kind to him, too. “What do you think we should look for in the village?” 

“I’d like a plant, I think,” Newt smiled. “You’ve sold me on them. It would certainly give me something else to tinker with.” 

“You could get a pothos, they’re easy to keep.” Crowley had a couple different varieties in his plant room. “I can help you keep it until you both go home.” 

“Just don’t let me near it,” Anathema warned. “I’ve got a black thumb.” 

Crowley snorted. “That’s what Aziraphale says, too. He helps water the plants, though.” 

“Perhaps I could manage that.” Anathema glanced at Newt. “Assuming you can tell me when I ought to do it, hm?” 

Newt huffed and reached out to take her hand, lacing their fingers together. They were both exuding joy in a way that made Crowley wonder why anyone bothered with scent patches. The mingling scents of citrus and nature were delightful and went far in soothing his desire for his Alpha. 

It reminded him, too, of being young with a kid-pack. Their scents had been faint but there and he had found comfort in them, once upon a time. Then they were gone and he was left in a sterile world except for lavender, and the soft scent of roses from his sister. 

A hand on his jostled him out of his thoughts and he met Anathema’s concerned gaze. “Alright?” 

“Yes.” He tried to smile but it wasn’t quite right and Anathema’s eyebrows rose. She slid over to his side of the carriage. 

“Would it...I mean. Would it help to be scented?” 

He stared at her and then glanced nervously at Newt. He wasn’t sure if this was appropriate. It seemed so intimate but Newt appeared nonplussed by it.  _ Packs _ , he thought. They were a fantasy in his world, but was this what it was like to have an Alpha who wasn’t a lover offer closeness? 

Shyly, Crowley nodded. Anathema made a considering noise. “Maybe you’d prefer if another Omega did it? I didn’t…” She slumped back against the seat. “You’re really not used to being part of a pack, are you.” 

“No.” He glanced down at his feet. 

“Newt was the same way when I met him. One of my friends scented him at a gathering and I thought he was going to have a panic attack, thinking he’d cheated on me.” Anathema huffed. “It isn’t any different than a hug, you know.” 

“It isn’t as easy as all that,” Newt pointed out. “It took me a very long time to come to that conclusion, and even then it was hard for me to seek comfort outside of Anathema.” 

Crowley tilted his head and regarded her thoughtfully before he made a decision and leaned in. Carefully, he rubbed along her jaw, smearing his scent across her skin. Anathema gave a rumbling growl that sounded surprisingly deep for a woman of her stature and she nuzzled back, leaving a trail of oil that smelled like the woods near his family home on a warm summer day. 

He relaxed, his eyes fluttering shut as he rested his forehead against her shoulder. Anathema lifted a hand and rested it on his, squeezing. 

“See?” She murmured. “Nothing life altering.” 

Crowley laughed. “It is though, isn’t it,” he murmured. 

“It is,” Newt agreed. 

The rest of the trip to the village was uneventful, Crowley soothed whenever he caught the smell of pine trees and sun kissed leaves on his skin. When they arrived, Shadwell took care of the carriage while he, Anathema, and Newt headed to the nursery. They came away with a handsome pothos that Newt held carefully to his chest, pleased with their purchase. 

“I’d like to stop at the bookstore,” Crowley said. 

“We’ll meet you back here in about twenty minutes, then? We’re going to go to the sweets shop.” Anathema looped her arm through Newt’s. 

“Sounds good.” 

Crowley watched her leave and realized it was the first time he’d been left alone like that. He’d never been given free reign, nor had he had access to a coin pouch like the one Aziraphale had given him. He had money, he had freedom, so he took a deep breath and made his way through the door into the familiar shop. 

It still smelled like leather, the same shopkeep working behind the counter. 

“Anything I can help you find?” He asked. Crowley shook his head. 

“I’m looking for something that calls to me,” he admitted. 

“Mm. Spiritual texts are in the back there.” 

Crowley glanced at the shopkeep and saw him smile. It was a joke. He smiled in return and then ducked his head and wandered through the stacks, touching the spines and wondering what Aziraphale might like. He ended up in the poetry section and began to leaf through some of the books, one poem in particular catching his eye. He was familiar with William Blake, if only because he’d had to read some of his poetry during his lessons. 

When he looked at the cover it had a lovely illustration of a fiery tiger. If nothing else, that alone might be worth it to Aziraphale. With the book clutched in his hands he made his way to the front to pay, the shopkeep making polite conversation as they exchanged money and change. Crowley left the shop happy, excited to give his Alpha his gift when he returned. 

As he exited he spotted an automobile parked against a curb and his eyes widened. He’d heard about them of course, read about them when he could, but he’d not seen one up close. The few families he interacted with were stalwart believers that the horse would reign supreme given time, so no one had yet purchased one. He heard they were far more prevalent in London. 

Approaching it he tucked the book under his arm and reached out to touch the bonnet, wishing dearly he could take a look beneath it. 

“Like what you see?” A tall, handsome man approached. He has short black hair that was well maintained, clipped in a stylish cut. He wore a dark suit, shined shoes, and a smile. 

“Yeah,” Crowley replied, glancing back down at the car. “I’ve read about them, but this is the first time I’ve gotten to see one up close.” 

“I’m not surprised. A lot of people are stuck in the old ways of things. This, though,” he patted the car. “It is the future.” 

As the Alpha stepped closer, Crowley was able to smell him. The scent was like over sweetened vanilla with something duller mixed in, something plain like poppy seeds. He smelled like dangerous flowers, like an opium plant might. It registered in Crowley’s mind as familiar. 

“Alright?” The Alpha asked, smoothly stepping in front of Crowley in a way that made him take a step back, now pressed against the car. 

Crowley took a nervous breath in and got another dose of the scent, one that eluded him until it didn’t and his eyes widened. “Lucifer.” 

The Alpha’s eyebrows rose and his head tilted as he took his first real look at Crowley. “Anthony Crowley, is that really you? Well I’ll be damned…” There it was, an unkind smile, one that had other motives lurking beneath it. Crowley tried to sidestep him, wanted to be anywhere but pinned between Lucifer and a car, but Lucifer matched his step. “Where are you going so quickly, hm?” 

“I have friends I’m meeting,” Crowley bit out quickly, not daring to take his eyes off of Lucifer. 

“Did you find a new pack?” Lucifer chuckled. “After you abandoned mine, I wasn’t sure you’d ever find a new pack to be a part of.” 

Crowley growled. “After  _ I  _ abandoned  _ you _ ? Are you fucking joking?” His voice went up in pitch, anger flooding through him. 

Lucifer shook his head. “You always acted as if we were the ones who chased you away, when it was you who had to question everything. It was you who didn’t want to do what I said. You were a poor pack member, Crowley, but I could have helped you.” He raised his hand to Crowley’s cheek and touched it. 

Crowley snapped at him, a snarl tearing out of his chest that made Lucifer immediately take back his hand. “You were always a bully.” 

“Hardly.” Lucifer finally took a step back as his nose wrinkled. “Seems you still don’t know how to play nice with others, hm? Pity. Did you ever find someone to marry, I wonder? After your parents reached out to me to see if I was interested I wondered how many more Alphas they had to burn through.” 

Crowley’s heart pounded against his chest, his pulse in his ears. He wanted Lucifer to get away from him, he wanted Aziraphale to be there, he wanted to be anywhere except where he was. Lucifer’s comments sank into his mind and he wondered why he couldn’t form the words, couldn’t tell him he was happily married. Something about it made him feel ashamed, like he’d betrayed Lucifer somehow when in reality Lucifer had never been on his side. 

His first pack Alpha had abandoned him.

“Crowley?” There was a growl to Anathema’s voice that cut through Crowley’s thoughts and he glanced up, eyes wide. Lucifer immediately took another step back, letting out his own growl. Anathema situated herself between them, shoulders tense, lips curled. “Can I help you?” It was directed toward Lucifer who held up his hands. 

“This is your Alpha, Crowley?” He smiled. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“No, I’m not his Alpha,” Anathema corrected. “But I am his friend, and for your sake I’d suggest you walk away from this.” 

“I’m afraid you are between me and my vehicle,” Lucifer replied, prim and cold. “So if you would kindly move I’d be happy to take myself away from all of this riff raff.” 

Newt sidled up beside Crowley and immediately nuzzled their cheeks together. Crowley inhaled the smell of tangerines and pressed into Newt’s side. Anathema continued to stand in front of them. 

“Newt, why don’t you and Crowley go wait by the carriage, hm?” She asked. Crowley didn’t miss the fact that they were drawing a small crowd. The people around them had stopped what they were doing to watch, likely made nervous by the smell of two unhappy Alphas beginning to permeate the area. 

“Right, of course.” Newt put an arm around Crowley and began to lead him away. Crowley went willingly and didn’t look back, too busy trying to get his breathing under control. He realized he was panicking and tears sprang up in his eyes. The moment he was ushered into the carriage he set down his book and was enveloped in Newt’s arms. 

“You’re alright,” Newt whispered into his hair. “You’re fine. You’re alright.” 

It wasn’t long before Anathema joined them, slamming the carriage door shut after shouting to Shadwell that they were leaving. She smelled like a burning forest and Crowley peeked out from where he’d tucked his head beneath Newt’s chin to look at her. 

“That guy was an absolute ass,” Anathema announced. 

“It would be good if you could calm yourself down,” Newt pointed out. Crowley wondered if Newt was as turned off by her scent as he was. “You smell like you’re going to set the carriage on fire.” 

Anathema took a few noticeably deep breaths and sighed. “That guy was still an ass.” 

“He was,” Crowley admitted. “Can we not talk about him anymore?” 

“Right. Of course. Are you going to be alright?” Anathema frowned and it was a really unfair look on a pretty face like hers. Crowley had caused that, had made both of Aziraphale’s friends so concerned over his own failures. 

“Fine,” he murmured, then allowed his head to fall back on Newt’s shoulder because it was nice. He hadn’t been that close to another Omega since his sister. 

“You’re not,” Anathema replied. “But I get it. I’m sorry our trip here got cut short. Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No.” He wanted Aziraphale. He wanted his Alpha, who had ridden off without him, who wouldn’t be back for days yet. Frustrated, he turned and buried his face in Newt’s shoulder and the carriage was quiet except for the occasional whinny of the horses. 

Crowley tried very hard not to think about Lucifer’s scent, or his words, or the fact his parents had reached out to him as a potential suitor. How had Crowley not known?  _ Because he rejected the notion right away _ , he realized, and it left him with another host of uneasy emotions. He’d never been good enough for Lucifer Morningstar. 

When they returned to the estate Crowley ignored Anathema’s worried questions as he headed straight upstairs and to his and Aziraphale’s den. The moment he was inside the door he took the biggest breath he could, comforted by a space that belonged to him and his mate. He stripped off his boots, his trousers, his shirt, and burrowed into the nest. He tangled himself up in the blankets and pillows until he was surrounded, until all he needed to do was reach for the handkerchief Aziraphale had given him so he could press it to his nose. 

Cocoa and vanilla, a scent he was growing so used to. It wasn’t as sweet as Lucifer’s had been. Aziraphale’s scent was always mellower, deeper, darker when they were together. It was more complex and Crowley loved it. 

Crowley loved Aziraphale. 

He whimpered into one of the pillows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday! 
> 
> Come hang out on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> You can also check out a few of my prompt fill fics:   
> [Grapple and Play](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22962028)   
> [Dreams and Soft Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22809235)   
> [Don't Neglect your Demon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864276)   
> [Fold Up My Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311958)
> 
> May they tide you over until next Wednesday! <3 And, if you have any prompts you'd like me to fill, hit me up on Twitter or Tumblr!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley grapples with what it means to be a part of a pack, and Aziraphale returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week seems like such a long time these days. This story continues to get written in between. I'm on chapter 13 now, if you can believe it! And I think the story still has quite a way to go. If I can get some chapters beta'ed ahead of time I might be able to post more frequently...we'll see! I might be convinced to at least do a bonus chapter here and there. 
> 
> Thank you all for your support, for your kind words, for finding me on twitter, tumblr, and inviting me to discord servers. One of the things I love about this fandom is how open and sociable everyone is! So thank you.
> 
> Also, my thanks to Dintay on the m25 Good Omens discord server for helping me with tarot card readings. I'm pretty sure I still got it wrong, but at least I'm happy with it!

Crowley woke up to a gentle nudge. 

“Angel?” He mumbled, rolling over to shove his face into the pillow. 

“I’m afraid not, dear,” Madame Tracy said, voice soft. “I wanted to check on you. You’ve been in here since yesterday evening, Ms. Device was concerned.” 

“What time s’it?” Crowley struggled to sit up, rubbing his eyes. 

“Morning. I wanted to see if you would come down for breakfast.” 

“Oh.” He tugged one of the blankets around his shoulders and finally looked up in Madame Tracy’s kind face. “Yeah. Of course.”

“Aziraphale will be home soon, I promise. I’m sure he misses you as much as you miss him.” 

Crowley huffed. “I hope not. This is miserable.” 

Madame Tracy rubbed his shoulder and squeezed it. “I’ll see you downstairs, love.” Then she left, and Crowley flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The memories of the previous day returned to him, though they stung a little less than they had. Lucifer could have his opinions, what did they matter? He was old news. 

Maybe if he thought that enough it would sink in. 

Reluctantly, he got ready for the day and headed down to find Anathema and Newt already eating breakfast. He dropped into a chair and took a sip of coffee already prepared the way he liked it. He was suddenly very grateful for Madame Tracy. 

“Good morning,” Anathema greeted with a half-concerned smile. 

“I’m alright,” Crowley pointed out. Anathema snorted. “You don’t have to er, pretend to be pleasant.” 

“I wasn’t pretending, you goof. I was just saying good morning.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I was worried about you last night after the whole Lucifer thing. It isn’t easy getting cornered by an Alpha like that.” 

He slumped back in his chair. “It would have been fine.” 

“Regardless, his behavior yesterday was deplorable. He’s lucky I didn’t kick him in the balls.” 

Crowley grimaced. “I don’t imagine that would have ended well.” 

“You’ve not seen her kick a bloke in the balls before,” Newt said. 

“Wait, you’ve done it before?” Crowley glanced at Anathema who shrugged and took another sip of coffee. 

“No comment. Nothing you can prove.” 

Crowley liked her more and more. “I wish you would have kicked him. He deserved it.” 

“Well, if we see him again we’ll kick his ass, I promise.” Ah, the delightful American spirit. “You’ve got a pack now and we don’t take shit from anyone.” 

A pack. He glanced between Anathema and Newt and wondered if that’s really what they were. Could there be two Alphas in a pack? Where did Aziraphale fall in all of it? He realized he was frowning when he caught a confused look from Anathema. 

“What?” She asked. 

“I’ve...I haven’t had a pack,” he admitted. “Since I was a kid. Lucifer was my kid-pack’s Alpha. I had trouble with him then, a couple of the other Omegas got tired of me asking so many questions. I was exiled and I never had one after that.” 

“Well, they’re not all that different from a family-pack,” Anathema supplied helpfully and Crowley’s heart sank as he glanced down at the table. 

“I didn’t really have one of those, either. No scenting, in my family. Not really any pack behaviors at all, except my over protective mother.” And she could be over protective sometimes, if she thought her family was being threatened. Though she hadn’t protected him from Lucifer’s rejection, or from his lonely life before Aziraphale. 

“You’ve got one now,” Newt said, voice quiet like he wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. “If you want it.” 

Did he? Did he want to be a part of something he barely understood? There had been something about the way Anathema defended him the day before that was appealing. Another Alpha, one not bound to him through marriage, coming to his aid for no other reason than because she cared. Crowley thought about what it had been like to be scented by Newt, to curl up against him on the ride back as a storm raged inside of him. 

Maybe having a pack wouldn’t be a bad thing, but what was his part in it? Could he be a good pack member? What did he have to offer these kind people who were so willing to be his friends?

“I don’t know,” Crowley answered as honestly as he could. “Maybe. Yeah.” He tapped his fingers against his mug. “I’ll talk to Aziraphale about it.” That seemed like the best path. There was a piece of him, something deeply ingrained that desperately wanted his Alpha to approve. Perhaps Aziraphale would make him feel better about all of it, though another piece of him hated how dependent he felt. 

That was the reason for a pack, he realized, looking up to meet Anathema’s eyes. But there was something he wanted first. “How about friends?” 

Anathema’s face broke out into a smile. “Friends, then.” 

Newt nodded. “Friends.” 

A smile he couldn’t contain tugged at his lips as something warm and light unfurled in his chest. He wasn’t sure about having a pack, but he could try having friends. Friends could scent each other, defend each other, take care of one another, but it didn’t need to have a commitment of a pack. It would be easier to fail Anathema and Newt if they were friends instead of pack members, and he would likely fail at some point. 

It was in his blood. 

Anathema and Newt carried the conversation after that and it was enjoyable enough. Crowley could let thoughts of Lucifer drift away, setting them back in the past where they belonged. They all eventually moved to the sitting room, Anathema filling the space with stories she had of her adventures into the occult. 

“Have you ever had a tarot card reading?” She asked and Crowley blinked out of his daze and glanced at her. 

“Hm?” 

“Tarot cards.” She smiled and produced a deck from somewhere within her skirts. He hadn’t realized she had pockets. The backs of the cards he could see looked ornate, if a bit worn out. “Try to tell you something about your past, present, and future.” 

“Can’t say I have.” His parents likely wouldn’t approve. They were the sort who showed up at church on Sundays and acted as if the Bible didn’t exist the rest of the week, but would certainly proclaim tarot cards to be witchcraft. 

It made him want a reading all the more. 

Anathema wiggled her brows and Newt laughed. “Oh, you’ve done it now mate. She knows you're interested.” 

“Fine, fine.” Crowley uncurled from his position in the armchair and slithered to the floor, sitting across from Anathema who in turn sat near Newt’s feet. 

“Think of an open ended question,” she said as she began to fuss with the cards. Crowley found his mind woefully blank. The questions that came to mind were yes or no, not particularly open ended. What did he want to know about? The future, of course. Whether he or Aziraphale would work out. Whether he could be a good mate and a good friend. 

“How do I find my place?” He asked, voice soft. He did not miss the soft look that crossed Anathema’s face, or the shift in her scent to something that warmed and comforted him. Crowley stared at his lap. 

“First card,” Anathema drew it and set it out. It was an upside-down card with a sun on it. “The sun. Maybe your past has required you to deal with a lot of bullshit. It tends to represent negativity, melancholy.” 

Crowley glanced up and when their eyes met Anathema nodded. The card wasn’t wrong. 

“Second card.” She drew it and set it out. It was a card that depicted an angel, in an upright position, pouring from one cup to another. “Temperance. You should continue to seek out meaning and have patience in doing so. It’ll come, it just might take a little time.” 

Finally, she drew the third card. She didn’t need to tell him what it was. It was Death, in the upright position, and he frowned. 

“None of that,” Anathema insisted. “Death is part of life. It indicates a change, a metamorphosis, a new beginning. It looks a lot like letting go of old things, seeking out new, and being willing to change is how you’ll find your place in the world.” 

“Strange.” Crowley stared at the ornate cards and they seemed to stare right back. 

“It is uncanny, isn’t it?” Newt asked. “She’s done this to me, too.” 

“It is all up to the cards,” Anathema shrugged. “What can I say?” 

“Thank you.” Crowley smiled and reached out to pick up the cards, running his finger over the worn designs. “I can cross it off my list.” 

He kept an open mind the rest of the week, joining Anathema and Newt on walks around the grounds, playing games, and reading. Crowley also spent time in the gardens, pruning and finding the earliest blooms to pull together in an arrangement. It wouldn’t be large, but it would be something, and Crowley wanted to have the flowers in a vase, on the top of the dresser in their den. 

He was working on tidying up some weeds in one of the garden beds when he heard stifled giggling. A tilt of his head and a sniff told him all he needed to know: The Them were lurking. 

Someone squeaked and was reprimanded. “Brian, you gotta be quiet or he’ll hear us!” It was Adam. 

“He’d have to be deaf to not already know we’re here.” Pepper scoffed. 

“If we want to know what he’s doing, why don’t we just ask him?” Wensleydale appeared to be the voice of reason and Crowley smiled as he yanked a particularly stubborn weed from the ground. 

He listened to the sound of footsteps approaching and glanced up to greet the rag-tag pack. The scent of fresh cut grass reached him, along with the other soft scents of children. They were non-threatening, barely-there smells that inspired a sense of protectiveness. Crowley sat back on his haunches. 

“Hi pups.” 

Adam made a face. “We’re not  _ really _ pups anymore, Mister Crowley. We’re almost twelve.” 

“Yes, quite grown up then. My mistake.” 

“I  _ am _ twelve,” Pepper was quick to point out. “I had my birthday just a month ago.” She was a beta, too. There was a lack of any markings on her neck that would become scent glands, whereas the other members of the pack had them. What a blessing, Crowley thought, to be a beta in a world like theirs. 

“What were you doing?” Brian asked, pointing at the pile of weeds. “Isn’t Mister Shadwell the one who usually does all this?” 

Crowley shrugged. “I enjoy it, so he lets me help.” 

“Looks like you’re doing a lot more than helping,” Adam pointed out. 

“Lords are supposed to let other people do that sort of thing,” Wensleydale said. 

“Well I’m not  _ really _ that much of a Lord, and there’s something to be said for getting your hands dirty.” 

“Can I try?” Pepper walked over and dropped onto her knees beside him, mouth set in a determined line. 

“Sure.” Crowley reached out for one of the weeds. “The trick is to make sure you’re getting the roots with it. If you just pull off the leaves,” he demonstrated, “then it will just grow back. You have to dig in and make sure all of it is up.” He dug his fingers into the soil, warmed by the sun above them, and yanked the rest of the plant out. 

It was tossed to the pile. Pepper’s lips shifted into a grin. “Cool.” She reached out and grasped a weed and managed to yank it out by the root. 

“I wanna try!” Brian said as he settled down near another garden bed. Wensleydale joined him, and Adam came over to the other side of Crowley. 

“What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen while weeding?” Adam asked. 

“A bunch of pups helping for the fun of it,” Crowley couldn’t help but smile as Adam scrunched up his nose. “Keep helping and I’ll tell you about a really strange bug I found once back at my old estate…” 

The children were surprisingly resilient, happy to help Crowley in the garden for a solid half an hour before they started to flag. 

“I think,” Brian began, sitting beside a pile of pulled weeds, covered in dirt. “I think we should get lunch.” 

“My mum was going to make cucumber sandwiches,” Wensleydale offered. “I bet she’d make enough for all of us.” 

“Do you want to come Mister Crowley?” Pepper asked, her hands filthy and her smile broad. 

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m afraid I ought to head in. We’ve got guests and I should get cleaned up and make sure they are entertained.” 

The pack said their goodbyes as Wensleydale herded them in what was likely the direction of his home. Crowley watched them go. 

“I see you’ve befriended the Them.” 

He glanced up to find Anathema standing nearby. “Afternoon,” Crowley inclined his head. “Yeah, they’re good pups.” 

“They are. A bit rambunctious, but they enjoy my wild conspiracy theories and I’m always a sucker for an audience.” Anathema looked him over. “Newt and I have talked about having them some day.” 

“Oh?” Crowley stood and brushed his gloved hands off before he removed the gloves. He and Anathema began to walk back toward the house. 

“Yeah. I like the thought of a few little troublemakers running around our ankles. Seems like a fun sort of adventure. I think I’d like to carry at least one, you know? For the experience. See what all the fuss is about.” There was a soft smile on her face. “Though there’s something appealing in thinking about Newt being pregnant.” 

A startled laugh bubbled out of Crowley’s chest. “Really?” 

Anathema glanced at him. “Yes. Don’t you think Aziraphale probably has similar thoughts?” 

A sickening weight settled in his stomach and he looked away from her. Did Aziraphale think about him getting pregnant? Did he secretly hope that Crowley would agree to have children? It had to be what Alphas wanted, after all. Wasn’t it a part of their make-up? Their very beings? Breed an Omega, have children, and there Crowley was, willing to deny him. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Anathema stepped closer to him, setting a hand on his shoulder with a squeeze. “Breathe. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was a touchy subject.” 

Crowley struggled to take a few deep breaths, panic threatening to boil over. He was a terrible Omega, wasn’t he? How had he found such a tolerant Alpha to deal with him? His attempts to breathe were futile as he stopped walking and struggled. 

“Shh, Omega, hush,” Anathema tugged him close and Crowley immediately nosed up under her jaw, desperately drinking in the smell of moss and earth. He trembled against her as her arms went around him, but her scent allowed him to finally breathe. He took a few gasping breaths and then turned to bury his face in her shoulder. His heart ached for Aziraphale. He wanted his Alpha back. 

But a pack Alpha was enough. He tilted his head again to breathe her in, barely registering the way her hands were rubbing up and down his back. 

“Everything alright?” Newt asked, approaching. The air was tinged with citrus which was just as comforting as Anathema’s scent. 

“I put my foot in my mouth,” Anathema offered up. “It is alright. Do you think we can go inside, Crowley? Get you some water, something to eat?” 

Crowley nodded and allowed himself to be led inside. His anxiety receded beneath the scents of his friends. 

Later that night he crawled into the nest and buried his nose in Aziraphale’s pillow, inhaling the smell of chocolate and vanilla. His chest ached with longing as he settled in and tried to sleep, pretending that the pillow pressed up against his back was his Alpha guarding him in rest.

It had been five days since Aziraphale left when Madame Tracy came to find Crowley in the plant room. He’d been giving a stern lecture to a pothos that had brown, curling leaves, when she stepped inside and got his attention. 

“You’ll be happy to know Aziraphale has sent word that he’s an hour out.” 

Crowley’s heart began to pound rapidly in his chest. “Oh? Oh. Should I do anything?” 

“No, dear, I just thought you might like to know.” 

“Right. Alright. Thank you, Madame Tracy.” It was impossible to smother his smile and Madame Tracy mirrored it before excusing herself from the room. 

Crowley finished with his plants and went to their den where he’d set up the small flower arrangement and had the book he’d purchased as a gift ready to give. He picked it up from the foot of the bed and then set it back down, not sure whether he should present it when they were alone or in front of Anathema. He paced around the room, fussing with things, moving pillows and blankets around. 

When he was as satisfied that he could be with their den, he made his way downstairs. Anathema lounged in the sitting room with a book in her lap. Newt appeared to be taking a nap. Anathema glanced up and offered Crowley a small smile. “I take it Madame Tracy let you know?” 

“Yes.” Crowley sat down in one of the plush armchairs. He tried to keep his leg from bouncing. He stood back up. “I think I’ll wait outside?” 

Anathema waved her hand dismissively and went back to her book. Crowley took it as permission to go outside. It was an overcast day but he tugged the cardigan he’d stolen from Aziraphale’s drawer more securely over his shoulders as he paced around the grounds. The sound of hoofbeats drew him out of his anxious walking pattern as he looked down to the road. 

Aziraphale pulled the horse to a stop and his face broke into a wide smile the moment he saw Crowley. He slid off the horse and left it, taking hurried steps toward Crowley. Crowley met him halfway and was glad to be pulled into an embrace. He buried his face against Aziraphale’s neck, rubbing his cheek, jaw, and chin against him, scenting him. A soft whining tore its way out of his chest as he basked in the presence of his Alpha. 

“Crowley, my love,” Aziraphale whispered and squeezed him. 

“Alpha.” Crowley touched his tongue to one of Aziraphale’s scent glands, allowing the bitter flavor to fill his mouth. He whined again, biting at Aziraphale’s neck, gentle but overwhelmed with delight. His Alpha returned. 

Then he smelled it. It was faint, but Aziraphale’s normal chocolate and vanilla was edged with something burnt. Like caramel. Sugar left too long in a pan. His nose wrinkled as he tried to place it and then he pulled back to meet Aziraphale’s eyes. 

Aziraphale’s smile faltered and he reached up to cup Crowley’s face in his hands. “I’m afraid our reunion is going to be delayed.” 

“You’re going into rut.” One part of Crowley wanted to press closer, to insist his Alpha take him to their nest so they could settle in for it. Another part was distinctly nauseous. Alpha’s in rut could be rough, thoughtless. They had one thing in mind and would do anything to breed an Omega. 

“You don’t need to spend it with me,” Aziraphale was quick to point out. “I have no expectations of it. I planned to take one of the spare rooms, to stay in there until it is over. I would never...I would never  _ expect _ , Crowley. I wish we had more time to discuss it.” 

Crowley’s eyes blurred with tears. “Alpha.” 

“I know. I know, darling. I’m sorry.” Aziraphale pulled him back into a hug and Crowley pressed his face into the curve of his neck, trying to rein in his tears. Somehow he knew he was failing Aziraphale, being a bad mate. Mates were supposed to spend ruts with their Alphas, not feel ill at the prospect. 

They’d already been apart for nearly a week, too, so the addition of a rut added insult to injury. 

“I need to start preparing,” Aziraphale admitted as he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s temple. “There’s some things I’m going to need, a few items I’ll need to go over with Madame Tracy…” 

So Crowley needed to stop being clingy. He needed to stop wishing he could be something he couldn’t. He had to stop the intense guilt building in his chest. He took a careful step back out of Aziraphale’s grip, which felt a little bit like a break-up, like he was leaving Aziraphale when he needed him the most. When they needed each other. 

Before he could step out of the circle of Aziraphale’s arms he was guided into a fierce kiss. It overwhelmed him and he melted into it, his arms going around Aziraphale’s neck. His Alpha groaned in frustration as he licked into his mouth, Crowley opening for him. He was dizzy by the time Aziraphale pulled away and put a few feet between them. 

“Any more of that and I’m afraid I’ll lose myself,” Aziraphale admitted and gave Crowley a helpless look. “My ruts don’t normally last more than four days, if even that. I promise I’ll make my absence up to you after that, yes?” 

“Yes.” Crowley swallowed around the single syllable which tasted sour on his tongue. He didn’t want to agree to more separation. He wanted to offer to join Aziraphale, to be his during the rut, for them to weather it together in their nest. Instead he bit his lip and glanced at the ground. 

“Oh, before I forget.” Something was pushed gently into Crowley’s hands. Crowley stared down at the folded fabric which was soft and silky to the touch. He unfolded it to find it was a scarf, knit from beautiful black and red yarn. As he brought it up to his nose it had Aziraphale’s scent and he glanced up at the Alpha who offered him a small smile. “For you.” 

“Thank you.” Crowley wrapped it around his neck immediately and ignored the impulse to get close to Aziraphale again. Instead, he took a few uncertain steps back. “I’ll go uh, let Anathema know?” 

“Yes. Please do.” 

Crowley gave Aziraphale a final long look before he turned and walked back into the house. 

“Aziraphale dealing with the horse?” Anathema asked, Newt awake now and stretching. 

“Yes. He. Uh.” Crowley fidgeted. “He’s going into rut. He’s probably not going to be very sociable.” 

“Oh.” Anathema glanced at Newt and then back to Crowley. “Would you like us to stay? We’re in no hurry to return to our estate.” 

_ Yes _ , Crowley’s brain unhelpfully supplied. He wanted them there, he didn’t want to be alone, he also wanted to drag Aziraphale to their nest and soothe him through the rut. His mind was a mess of emotions and he tugged on one end of the scarf. But what if it was too much? How pathetic did he have to be to need people to stay with him because he couldn’t in good conscious complete his duty as a mate? 

Aziraphale hadn’t even asked him. 

It was Newt who approached, the scent of tangerine sweet on Crowley’s tongue as he glanced at him. Another Omega, his pack member, his  _ friend _ , reached out and touched his shoulder. “Come on. We can let Madame Tracy know, and you can probably scent a few things for Aziraphale to help him through it.” 

Crowley glanced over at Anathema who smiled. He tried to smile in return but it didn’t fit, so instead he allowed Newt to guide him in the direction of the kitchen where Madame Tracy was preparing snacks. 

The next few hours were an unexpected hustle to prepare a spare room for Aziraphale. Madame Tracy took it in stride and Crowley imagined it was hardly her first time helping him through it. She was a hell of a woman. Crowley took one of the blankets from their nest and gave it to her to put in the spare room, along with his flourishing spider plant. 

“For his temporary den,” he insisted. “To...remind him.” Of him. Of his failure of a husband who didn’t know how to be a proper Omega. Madame Tracy smiled at him and took the items, patting his shoulder. 

“He’ll appreciate them, love.” 

Crowley caught a mere glimpse of Aziraphale before he was sequestered away in the room. Crowley sat downstairs with Anathema and Newt, trying not to fidget or think about the Alpha upstairs. The rest of the day wasn’t terrible, he could almost pretend Aziraphale was still on the road, still making his way back home to him. 

That night, he passed by the spare room and caught a whiff of burning sugar. It made him shudder. The scent of an Alpha in rut, particularly one an Omega was close to, could trigger a heat even in spite of suppressants. Sometimes nature couldn’t be beaten back, and Crowley knew if he lingered, if he slipped into that room and crawled into bed with his Alpha, he’d be lost to it. His heat would set in within the day and they’d go down a path they couldn’t retreat from. 

As he hesitated outside of Aziraphale’s door he wondered if it would be so terrible. Other Omegas had children, and he liked Aziraphale. He was a good mate, would make a good father, and would likely be kind to Crowley and their children. 

A hand on his back startled him out of his hazy thoughts and he turned toward the scent of orange peels. “Newt.” 

“It is hard, isn’t it?” Newt began to guide him toward his and Aziraphale’s bedroom. “I’ve not spent a rut with Anathema yet. Two years married, and she’s never asked it of me.” 

That surprised Crowley. “Why not?” 

“We’re not ready for children. I’d like them sometime, but Anathema says it isn’t the end of the world to spend her rut alone. It is a few days of unpleasantness for her, and a bit of heartache for me, but then we resume our lives as they are and we’re better for it.” 

“But what about…” Duty. Carrying on the family line. Crowley hesitated over how to ask the question. He seemed to be the one out of the loop in Aziraphale’s circles, the only one who experienced pressure from unseen forces. “Er. It is what we’re made for, isn’t it?” 

Newt shrugged as they both stopped in front of the bedroom door. “Is it? Does every woman need to have a child just because she has a uterus? Madame Tracy has never married as far as I know, never had children. Is she not living up to her purpose?” 

Crowley shrank away from that and stared down at his toes. “‘Suppose not.” 

“Why is it different for those of us with secondary genders, then?” 

“I don’t know.” Hormones, maybe. The way his body was alight with need and desire when he so much as sniffed at Aziraphale’s door. For the moment those thoughts were banished, covered by the familiar, calming scent of citrus. Newt squeezed his shoulder. 

“Well, we’ll be here to help you both through it. For now, you should get some rest.” 

“Right.” Crowley glanced at Newt. “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” Newt smiled and Crowley slipped into his den and shut the door quietly behind him. Inside there was an air of calm, despite the storm that threatened to break through his chest. It was his den, his and Aziraphale’s nest. He hadn’t been abandoned, not really. No more than he had been when Aziraphale was traveling. 

He would be okay. Crowley repeated the mantra over and over in his head as he changed into pajamas and crawled into bed. He cuddled the scarf Aziraphale had purchased for him close, nose tucked into it. He would be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday! 
> 
> Come hang out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley deals with Aziraphale's rut and thankfully has his friends to help him through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? A bonus chapter? Gasp! This shows that I can be convinced. 
> 
> Huge shout out to my current beta, [coveredincrumb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegiftoftime/pseuds/coveredincrumb) who has been Beta'ing at a crazy pace. 
> 
> Also, all my love to everyone in these trying times. I know the corona virus can be a frustrating, confusing thing, especially as people are told their workplaces are being shut down, or otherwise being asked to self-isolate to try and contain the spread. Know that I am here for you, and that my inboxes are always open should you need a little comfort!

Waking to an empty bed made Crowley inclined not to leave it. It was made worse when he remembered Aziraphale was just on the other side of the house, alone. But he had friends over. Anathema and Newt had agreed to stay and if not for himself, then he would get up and out of bed for them. 

They kept him distracted most of the day but when it came time to bed down, Crowley was once more drawn to the door of Aziraphale’s temporary room. The smell of burnt caramel was surprisingly enticing and Crowley wondered what it would be like to have it smeared onto his skin as Aziraphale set his teeth against his neck. 

Oh. He flushed, cheeks hot as he realized he was getting slick. In a moment of weakness he reached for the doorknob and found it locked. He jerked it, tried it again and again, and then hit the door and whined. 

“Alpha,  _ please _ .” He pressed his forehead to the door, a long, drawn out whine coming from somewhere deep in his chest. The sweet scent of rut was overwhelming and it made his head fuzzy and his body ache. “Alpha.” 

His Alpha knew. He knew he’d try to get in, knew he’d be weak enough to want it, and he’d locked him out. He hit the door again, biting back the growing howl that burned in his chest as he whined louder. 

“Crowley.” 

Crowley’s lips curled up in a half-snarl as the smell of moss tinged burnt caramel. Another Alpha, not  _ his _ Alpha. He wanted his Alpha. He dug his fingers into the wood of the door and finally did howl in anguish. His Alpha didn’t want him. His Alpha wouldn’t share a nest with him. His mind swam with all the possible ways he could get through the door, make it up to him, show him he could be a good Omega. That he would do anything. 

“ **Stop** .” 

Crowley froze, chest heaving. The single syllable pierced his hormone driven haze and his desperation receded just enough for him to realize he’d left scratch marks on the wood. There were splinters beneath his nails and little pinpricks of blood. He stared at it, watching it soak into the wood, barely registering the pain in the midst of his upset. 

He hadn’t been commanded by an Alpha since he was a child, his mother doing so when he and Lilith were being particularly rambunctious. It wasn’t something used often because of the power it had. 

It was unfair. 

He could finally breathe. 

“Anathema,” he mumbled, forehead touching the door. 

“Come on,” she put an arm around him and pried him away from the door. He went, her command still bounding around in his mind. She had said stop. He needed to stop. He continued to breathe as she led him down stairs and to the couch. It had been set up with blankets and pillows, ones that smelled like Newt and Anathema. Newt was already there and Crowley was guided onto the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“Hush.” Anathema ran a hand through his hair as he was moved around until he was buried in blankets, surrounded by pillows, and nestled between Anathema and Newt. “This is what a pack is for.” 

Their scents soothed the frantic Omega inside of his chest. When he was with them, in a makeshift nest, everything else seemed far away. Aziraphale was upstairs and he would be fine. Crowley was downstairs and he wasn’t alone. He’d always been alone, but now he had friends. Friends that smelled like a clean forest and a sunny day. 

Friends that held him close and scented him. Newt rubbed their cheeks together. Crowley settled with his nose pressed against Anathema’s jaw. She idly tended to his nails with gentle hands and a handkerchief. He slept settled between them, the ache in his chest soothed by the weight of other bodies and the warmth of blankets. 

When he woke, dawn barely peeked through the window near the couch. Anathema was nowhere to be found, but Newt had his arms around him and the smell of citrus was nearly enough to lull him back to sleep. He fought against his own fatigue, idly nuzzling against Newt to inhale a bit more of his scent before he slipped out of the nest. 

Anathema was in the kitchen brewing coffee on the stove. She glanced up and smiled. “How do you feel?” 

Crowley rubbed the back of his neck and inhaled the heady scent of coffee. “I’m alright. I, er,” he bit his lower lip, not sure what to say. 

“It is alright. Did you know Newt’s mom comes to stay with him when I’m in rut? That’s the reason we wanted to stay with you. Ruts are hard all around.” 

“You’ve never asked Newt to spend one with you?” 

“Asked? Sure. Discussed, more like. But we both decided it wasn’t worth the risk of triggering his heat, at least for the time being. So his mom comes and stays with him while I deal with it. It works out.” 

Crowley tapped his fingers against the counter. “I guess I always expected to be forced to spend it with my Alpha.” 

“Yeah, well, from what I’ve learned about you it sounds like your parents suck.” 

That startled a laugh out of Crowley who looked up and found Anathema smiling back, the corners of her eyes crinkled with it. “Yeah. I’m learning that, too.” 

“Coffee?” She put out the flame and located two mugs, filling them even without Crowley’s answer. 

“Why are you up so early?” He asked as he accepted his mug and topped it off with a splash of milk and a bit of sugar. 

“I tend to be an early riser. There’s good energy first thing in the morning as the world wakes up.” Anathema walked over to one of the small windows in the kitchen that looked out over some of the garden. “Also, Newt tends to snore and I finally got tired of it.” 

Crowley snorted. “I didn’t notice.” 

“No, you probably didn’t because you sleep like a rock.” 

“I like my sleep.” He took a sip of coffee and joined her at the window. “Thank you, for yesterday.” 

Anathema glanced at him. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I used a command on you. I don’t like doing it.” 

“I was too far gone to listen to anything else,” Crowley admitted. “So. It is okay.” 

“I didn’t want you bloodying your fingers on the door. You were so upset…” Anathema took a drink. “I know you don’t like being labeled as part of a pack but, well, as your friend and an Alpha I couldn’t stand there and let you hurt yourself.” 

Crowley stared through the window at the world outside, watching the bushes sway in the breeze. “We are a pack.” 

“Hm?” He didn’t miss the smile that Anathema tried to hold back. 

“We are a pack,” he grumbled and shot her a look, before gently bumping his shoulder against hers. “Just don’t hold me to it, alright? I think I’m likely to be a terrible pack member.” 

“That’s the fun of being part of a pack, we help you learn how to be a good one.” Anathema stopped fighting the smile and turned her gaze to follow Crowley’s out the window. “I thought we could go visit my estate today, if you’d like. It might be good to get a break from this house.” 

Crowley’s immediate reaction was to resist it. What if his Alpha needed him? He should stay close, be ready to serve him, but as he let the immediate thoughts run through his head he saw they were flawed. Aziraphale had Madame Tracy and the Sergeant to help him. Crowley likely wouldn’t even see him until his rut was finished. There was no reason not to go to Anathema’s. 

“I’d like that.” 

“I’ve got cats,” Anathema admitted. “And some goats, and chickens, and a couple horses. There’s a menagerie of beasts. I’m not sure if you like that.” 

“My family kept horses and chickens.” But he’d never been allowed to bond with any of them. They were meant for work and food, not as pets. He’d always wanted a pet. 

“Well, you’ll like mine then. My hens are a particularly social bunch. If we get there in time, we can feed them.” 

“That sounds like a plan.” Crowley smiled into his coffee. 

Anathema’s estate was only an hour and a half away, a looming house with windows that stared at a wild garden. Whereas Aziraphale’s grounds were well manicured, Anathema’s were left to nature with what had to be only minor interventions to keep it from overtaking the house itself. It was beautiful, really, with vines and ivy and large bushes as far as the eye could see. There were giant trees that were likely older than the home, left to grow when someone else might have seen them as a risk. 

“My great-grandmother inherited this from a distant relative,” Anathema explained. “It had fallen into disrepair and she supervised the structural repairs. The story goes that one of the contractors suggested cutting down all the trees and was immediately fired, because Agnes believed the trees had a story to tell.” 

It seemed like a strange thing to think, in the face of trees that could otherwise fall, collapse, or threaten a home. But as the treetops swayed in a gentle spring breeze, buds alive and growing on what was once bear, Crowley could see it. 

He loved Anathema’s estate. It was disappointing not to get to experience it with Aziraphale at his side, but he enjoyed his time. They fed the chickens as promised, one of the hens pecking at Crowley’s shoe until he lifted her into his arms. She was soft and pliant, clucking and settling easily in his arms. He walked around with her as Anathema showed off the rest of the animals, and put her down only when she began to squirm. 

An old barn cat spied on them from the top of a post marking off part of the run for the horses. Crowley was drawn in by the cat. 

“That’s Agnes,” Anathema grinned. “She’s a thorny old thing like my great grandmother was.” 

The barn cat was an unassuming brown tabby with bright eyes and a notched ear. Her tail flicked as Crowley prowled close. 

“She might whack you,” Anathema warned. 

Crowley tilted his head and reached out, leaving his hand suspended in the air between himself and the cat. Agnes leaned forward and delicately sniffed at his fingertips before she rubbed her cheek against them. Crowley took it as permission and stroked the fur between her ears, delighting in the way she bumped up against his hand. 

“She likes Omegas.” Newt approached, then cast a glance over toward Anathema. “Anathema has never gotten over it.” 

“I’m the one who feeds her!” Anathema did not stray closer. “And she’s never let me touch her.” 

Newt, on the other hand, was welcomed as much as Crowley had been. He went so far as to scratch Agnes behind the ears. She began to purr. 

Crowley was introduced to the horses, the goats, and the other animals lurking around the estate. The goats apparently roamed the grounds during the day, acting as gardeners in their own right as they kept the foliage trimmed back. Crowley gave the horses a wide berth, but enjoyed petting the mule between the eyes as it snorted and snuffled at his palm. 

By the time they made it into the actual estate he was dirty, tired, and smelled like animals, but beneath it all he realized he was happy. 

“You know,” Anathema began as they were seated around a table for tea. “One of the barn cats is pregnant. She’s a newer one on the property, slipped in before we were able to snatch her up and get her fixed. I bet we could set a kitten aside for you.” 

Crowley glanced up, surprised. “Oh? I...well.” He’d never had a pet. He didn’t know the first thing when it came to caring for them. “I’d have to ask Aziraphale.” 

Anathema snorted. “If you want one, he’ll let you have it. He’s in love with you. He’d give you the moon if it was within his ability to drag it down from the sky.” 

Crowley blushed, his cheeks warm with it as he sipped his tea. “I don’t know the first thing about taking care of animals.” 

“Feed them, water them, play with them.” Anathema shrugged. “They’ll bother you if you don’t do those things.”

Crowley hesitated and fussed with the cloth napkin on his lap. “What about the mother?” 

“What?” 

“The mother. I imagine finding homes for kittens will be pretty easy but did you want to keep her?” 

Anathema smiled. “She’s yours, if you’d like her. Though I should warn you that she’s mostly feral. I don’t think she’s ever lived inside in her life. She was probably born out there, unlike her kittens who we’ll bring inside once they’re weaned.” 

For some reason, that appealed to Crowley even more. “I’ll figure it out. You said it yourself, she’ll bother me when she needs something, right?” 

“Of course.” 

They returned to Aziraphale’s estate that evening for dinner, Crowley excusing himself to take a bath and wash off the day. When it was time for bed he was tugged gently into the couch-nest and wrapped up in his pack again, sparing a longing thought toward Aziraphale locked away upstairs before he slipped into sleep. 

The next couple days went by easily enough. Anathema and Newt managed to come up with all kinds of entertaining things to occupy themselves, even enlisting The Them in a large game of hide-and-seek out on the grounds. At least until the rain came, chasing them all inside to find towels, dry clothes, and hot chocolate prepared by Madame Tracy who tutted and fussed over everyone. 

Every night, Crowley slept in the nest with his pack despite it being nowhere near as comfortable as a bed. Its ramshackled state made it work somehow, so different from the nest that he shared with Aziraphale that it didn’t feel wrong to be there without him. The fear of betraying his mate was never far from his mind.

It was the fourth morning after Aziraphale had been locked away in rut when he stirred. Anathema was still asleep which meant it had to be early. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, tempted to turn over and fall back asleep until he caught a familiar scent. His eyes snapped open and found Aziraphale seated on an armchair, face soft in the first tendrils of morning light. 

“Alpha,” Crowley whispered, untangling from his friends to rise up on unsteady legs. They stirred, but curled into each other instead and settled. He crossed the few steps from the couch to the armchair and all but fell into Aziraphale’s arms. Still weighed down by sleep, he nuzzled against Aziraphale’s neck and pressed his nose up against his scent gland to breathe him in. The smell of cocoa and vanilla greeted him, no longer tinged with burnt caramel. Mixed with it on his own skin was Newt’s citrus and Anathema’s earthy scent, all calming, all warm.

His rut was done. Crowley whined softly and tried to mold his body as close to Aziraphale’s as he could, tongue darting out to taste him. “Alpha.” 

“Omega,” Aziraphale whispered, arms going around him to pull him close. “Crowley. Oh, I’ve missed you.” Aziraphale pressed his lips to Crowley’s neck and then tilted his nose against his scent gland, breathing in. They remained like that, breathing each other in slowly, and Crowley almost dozed off. 

“I missed you too,” he mumbled, a belated reply torn from the contented haze of his mind. 

“Can we go to our nest?” Aziraphale asked, nudging Crowley’s jaw with his nose. 

“Yes. Please.” 

Without another word, Aziraphale lifted him with an arm beneath his knees and another around his back. Crowley threw his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and leaned into him, eyes closed. Each step was measured and steady as they ascended the stairs. Aziraphale nudged open the door to their den, stepped inside, nudged it closed, and crossed over to their nest. 

He laid Crowley down on it and then joined him, both squirming until they were under the blankets. Crowley pressed as close to Aziraphale as he could, resuming his position with his nose tucked up under his jaw. He couldn’t get enough of Aziraphale’s scent, or his warmth, or the steady press of his arms. 

“I love you,” Crowley said into the quiet of the room. It had been long enough that he wasn’t sure Aziraphale was even awake to hear him. He hid his face against his neck. “When you were gone, I missed you. When I had to come back to an empty nest, it felt wrong. When I knew you were up in that room going through your rut alone I…” he faltered. He pressed his lips to skin instead and then bit in a whisper of teeth. “I love you.” 

Aziraphale shifted to press their foreheads together, resting a hand against the side of Crowley’s face. Crowley stared into Aziraphale’s eyes as his stomach twisted with nerves. 

“I love you too, Crowley.” Aziraphale had said it before and it apparently hadn’t changed, not even after Crowley abandoned him to his rut. Crowley let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I missed you.” 

Crowley kissed him, tired of words. He kissed Aziraphale until he pushed him onto his back, straddling his waist. Crowley settled in on top of him, biting his lower lip and coaxing Aziraphale’s mouth open. It earned a low groan that rumbled where their chests were pressed together. Crowley let his hands get lost in Aziraphale’s curls, mussing up his hair. His fingers curled and tugged, pulling a surprised moan out of Aziraphale. 

Crowley’s hands went to the buttons of Aziraphale’s sleeping shirt, pulling them loose and parting the sides so he could trail his mouth over his collarbone and down over his chest. Aziraphale huffed and Crowley heard the rustle of the pillow as Aziraphale tugged it beneath his head and relaxed. He was giving himself over, allowing Crowley to have his fill, and it sent a shiver down his spine. 

He lingered at each of Aziraphale’s nipples, lapping at them until they were hard and then gently setting his teeth against him. Aziraphale’s breath hitched, a hand cradling the back of Crowley’s head. “Gentle.” 

Crowley hummed and returned to his licking, Aziraphale twitching and whining. His hand fell away and Crowley’s mouth dipped lower, tracing over the swell of Aziraphale’s stomach and then down to the edge of his sleeping trousers. Crowley glanced up and found Aziraphale’s clear blue eyes staring down at him, hooded, a faint smile on his face. 

“Angel.” 

“You’re gorgeous.” Aziraphale’s smile grew and Crowley laid his cheek against his hip, waiting. “I thought about you when I was alone. I thought about burying my hands in your hair, drawing your lips to mine, kissing you until you were breathless and begging. I wanted to make love to you so badly, my dear.” 

Crowley’s heart twisted and he nuzzled against the soft fabric of Aziraphale’s trousers. It was sleep-warm beneath his cheek and against his nose. “I’m sorry.” He was a bad mate. A coward. 

“No, no,” Aziraphale shifted up enough so he could reach down and brush a few strands of hair out of Crowley’s face. Crowley leaned into it like a flower seeking sunlight. “I’m not telling you this to make you guilty, only to let you know how glad I am to be back with you. To have you right here, at my hip, in our nest.” 

Crowley huffed. “But you would have preferred me during your rut.” 

“Preferred?” Aziraphale made a considering sound. “Maybe. I certainly desired you, but I also took great comfort in knowing you were with family. That you were with our pack. I think that was more important than dealing with my biological whims.” 

Crowley nosed at the bulge in Aziraphale’s trousers, flicking his eyes up to him again. “And now? What about your biological whims?” 

Aziraphale shuddered. “Now I hand the reins over to you, as I’m quite exhausted and happy as long as you are.” 

Crowley smiled at that, warmed from the tips of his fingers to his core as he pressed a kiss to Aziraphale through the thin fabric. He tongued at him, Aziraphale’s hand falling away as the Alpha settled back into the sheets.  _ His _ Alpha. Comfortable, soft, his chest rising and falling, cock hardening beneath Crowley’s attentions. 

Shifting, Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s sleeping trousers down to find he wasn’t wearing pants underneath. He glanced up and didn’t miss the flush high on Aziraphale’s cheeks and the half-embarrassed glance away. Crowley smirked and dragged the trousers down around Aziraphale’s knees before he settled and reached out to stroke him. His cock hardened in his grasp and Crowley couldn’t resist leaning in to press a kiss just beneath the head. 

“Omega,” Aziraphale whispered and it was a reverent thing, damn near worshipful as it chipped a little more away from Crowley’s hatred of the title. When it was on Aziraphale’s lips he could almost be proud of what he was. 

Crowley took him into his mouth, fingers curled around the base of Aziraphale’s cock to hold him steady. The shudder that went through Aziraphale was almost like a shock and he pulled off, glancing up. Aziraphale huffed. 

“I’m a bit sensitive.” He glanced away, cheeks redder than before. 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

“God, no.” Aziraphale laughed. “I just might not last long.” 

Crowley shrugged at that and took Aziraphale back into his mouth, sticking to working the head with his tongue and lips. Aziraphale’s sounds were music to his ears, soft gasps and quiet moans so dearly missed when they were apart. The fact that Aziraphale was more sensitive than usual delighted Crowley, considering his lack of experience and steadily growing skills when it came to using his mouth. 

He stroked up and down the rest of Aziraphale, his free hand resting against his hip as he otherwise settled on his belly between his legs. As he was lying atop Aziraphale’s trousers, he had him pinned in place, and it helped him control the little jerks of Aziraphale’s hips. He bobbed his head, taking more of Aziraphale down, hand stilling at the base of him as he took in the taste of salt and skin. 

  
“Crowley!” The sharp warning didn’t come quickly enough as the thick taste of cum hit his tongue. He choked, pulled off of Aziraphale, and coughed. He made a mess of Aziraphale’s belly and grimaced as he gasped for breath. Aziraphale always warned him with more than enough time before. 

“Darling,” Aziraphale’s hand pet through his hair. “Alright? I’m so sorry. It surprised me.” 

Crowley laid his head against Aziraphale’s hip and tried to calm himself. It was mostly in his head, but his mouth was tacky. “S’fine.” 

“It isn’t.” Aziraphale sighed and continued to pet him. Finally, the mess on Aziraphale’s stomach bothered Crowley enough that he slipped from the bed into the attached bath to get a cloth. He came back out and wiped up the spit and cum and must have grimaced, because Aziraphale tugged him down for a brief kiss. 

“My mouth is gross,” Crowley mumbled against his lips, even though he’d kissed Aziraphale after the very same act. 

“You’re perfect.” Aziraphale smiled and let him return to the bathroom where he cupped cool water in his hand and rinsed out his mouth. When he joined Aziraphale back in bed, Aziraphale had pulled back up his trousers. Crowley settled against his legs again, head against his hip. 

“Love?” Aziraphale asked, tone laced with concern.

“M’fine. I just.” He hesitated, and then reached out to touch a spot on Aziraphale’s thigh through his trousers. “Want to be right here.” His fingers traced the spot, seeking out the slight bump he knew had to be there. Aziraphale hummed and reached out to guide Crowley’s hand, settling it near the crease of his thigh. There was a bundle of nerves beneath his fingertips. 

“I’d let you,” Aziraphale answered his unasked question. Crowley sighed, breath blowing across Aziraphale’s belly. 

“You’ve never let anyone else.” 

“No. Why would I?” 

Crowley shrugged. “Alphas...they’re not. Er. I heard that it isn’t as big of a deal for Alphas.” 

“Bonding?” Aziraphale’s tone was incredulous. “You don’t think bonding is a big deal for Alphas?” 

Crowley huffed and tilted his head to look up at Aziraphale. “Of course an Alpha biting an Omega is a big deal.” It was a seal, proof to the public clear as day on one’s neck that an Omega was protected and, if they were lucky,  _ loved _ . The nerves, when bitten, released a potent flush of chemicals that provided a far more intimate bond between partners than any other act. 

At least for Omegas it was true. He’d heard enough stories about Alphas having no trouble with multiple partners biting the bundle of nerves hidden away by clothing. His mother had insisted any Omega wanting to keep their spouse would leave a bite of their own on an Alpha’s thigh, so any future partners would know they were cheating. 

It was all so complicated. Crowley pressed his palm to it. 

“It is a big deal,” Aziraphale whispered and Crowley could hear the frown in his voice. 

“It wouldn’t be fair to you,” Crowley insisted after a moment. Aziraphale made a questioning noise and Crowley tilted his face into Aziraphale’s hip, hiding. “I’m not ready for you to bite me.” 

“I’d still let you do it. One has nothing to do with the other.” Aziraphale’s fingers were light against his hair, brushing, hesitant. Crowley pressed his head up into the touch and Aziraphale applied more pressure, scratching. 

“Aziraphale.” 

“It is alright, we don’t have to discuss it now.” 

Crowley closed his eyes and Aziraphale continued to pet him. 

“My love?” Aziraphale asked after a while of silence. Crowley glanced up. “Would you come up here?” He patted the bed beside him. With a sigh, Crowley squirmed up and snuggled into Aziraphale’s side. Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Did I put off the mood?” 

“A little,” Crowley admitted as he nosed at the underside of Aziraphale’s jaw, breathing him in. “Not you specifically, though. Just the whole cum-in-my-mouth thing.” 

“I’m dreadfully sorry.” 

“S’okay. It happens. I don’t mind just laying here with you.” He actually preferred it, given their long separation. He wanted to bask in Aziraphale’s scent until it was a part of him again. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, hm?” 

“Honestly?” Crowley caught Aziraphale’s eye. “This is more than enough. I missed you.” 

Aziraphale drew him into a kiss and they shared that space for a while, trading brushes of lips and other gentle touches. Aziraphale’s hand rested against the nape of Crowley’s neck as he drew their foreheads together and breathed each other’s air. Crowley relaxed, eyes closing. 

“Tired.” He mumbled.

“Sleep.” 

Crowley nodded and, forehead still touching Aziraphale’s, allowed himself to drift to sleep. 

He woke from a dream where Aziraphale was gone, a large, yawning hole standing where he should have been. Crowley jerked back into wakefulness and heard shushing from Aziraphale who brushed hair back out of his face. 

“Just a dream,” Aziraphale insisted. “It was just a dream. I’m right here.” 

Crowley inhaled cocoa and vanilla, desperately rubbing his cheek against Aziraphale’s scent gland to smear the sweet oil onto his skin. Overwhelmed by the scent, he finally began to relax, reaching out to run his hand down Aziraphale’s arm. The touch of skin grounded him. At some point, Aziraphale had shucked his sleeping shirt. 

“Tell me, did you do anything fun while I was away?” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“We’re getting a cat,” Crowley offered. Aziraphale laughed. 

“Sorry, what?” 

“A cat.” Crowley tilted his head and brushed their noses together, then stole a kiss. “I went to Anathema’s and they’ve got a pregnant cat.” 

“You want a kitten, then?” 

“No, I want the mom cat after her kittens don’t need her anymore.” 

Aziraphale’s face softened and he kissed Crowley. “Alright.” 

“No fight?” 

“Why would I? We have more than enough room. I haven’t kept pets simply because I didn’t have an interest. But if you want pets, pets we shall have.” Aziraphale eased him onto his back and kissed him again. 

“Really?” Crowley asked between kisses, reaching up to rest his hand against Aziraphale’s cheek. 

“Does that surprise you?” 

Crowley shrugged. He toyed with the ends of some of Aziraphale’s curls. “A little, maybe.” 

“I would give you the world, Crowley.” Aziraphale kissed his nose. “Anything you wanted, within my means.” 

Crowley took in the earnest look on Aziraphale’s face and melted back into the bed, pulling him down for a kiss. “Touch me?” 

Aziraphale chuckled and kissed his neck, biting down, teeth threatening but not hurting. “Gladly.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday but I can be convinced otherwise.
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley take a trip to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all. What a fucking week, right? I feel like I've aged ten years over the last couple of days. With all this corona virus stuff happening my office is closed, we're all working remotely until Mid-April, and now I'm going to fly cross-country back to Oregon to settle down there to weather this storm with my family instead of staying in NYC. To say this is a disruption is an understatement. I'm expecting a "shelter in place" call from either New York as a state, or NYC at the very least, in the back half of the week which is why I'm trying to get out now to somewhere with fewer people so I'm not just cooped up in my apartment. 
> 
> ANYWAY. This shit is CRAY. My heart goes out to each and every one of you experiencing similar life disruptions. A lot of folks are losing their jobs, their businesses, and some are stuck at home in less-than-great situations. Know I'm thinking of all of you, and that I know we'll all get through this if we stick together. 
> 
> With that in mind, PLEASE don't hesitate to reach out/follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) or [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/). I also welcome any and all friend requests on Discord (where I'm Vagabond#5342). I'm here to talk, I'm here to help in whatever way I can...anything I can do, don't hesitate to reach out.
> 
> We're all in this together, my loves.

Newt and Anathema stayed an additional day before they left for home, letting Aziraphale and Crowley return to their normal routine. Crowley updated him on the Them, his plants, and Shadwell’s recent, albeit shy, attempts to win Madame Tracy over. 

“He did what?” Aziraphale asked with a laugh. They were lounging in the library, Crowley’s head in his lap as he lay sprawled across the couch. Aziraphale, as always, sat up straight with his hand resting on a book. 

“I didn’t realize he was an Alpha, you know. His courtship gifts make sense now.” Crowley closed his eyes when Aziraphale ran his fingers through his hair. “He clipped her some flowers, a mixed bunch of wildflowers he’d found just off the property. There was love in her eyes but he ran off right after.” 

“You didn’t know he was an Alpha?” Aziraphale asked. 

“No.” Crowley opened his eyes, peering up at Aziraphale. “He doesn’t smell like one.” 

“Well, he is older.” Aziraphale shrugged. “No longer beholden to hormone ridden scent marking, or ruts.” 

“Lucky him.” Crowley huffed. “Why do you think he’s so nervous around Madame Tracy?” 

“Hm. She’s a beta, which might be hard for him. You can’t smell when she’s receptive, or interested, or nervous.” Aziraphale brushed a finger over one of Crowley’s scent glands, catching oil on it. “It is strange to have that sense cut off, to have to rely on body language and verbal cues only.” 

Crowley thought back to a childhood of scent patches and understood completely. Aziraphale thumbed the corner of his mouth. 

“You’re frowning.” 

Crowley nipped his thumb. “I just understand how hard it could be.” A thought occurred to him. “Wasn’t your mother a beta?” 

Aziraphale smiled. “She was. But just because one is a beta doesn’t mean they never have a scent. Everyone has a scent, even if it isn’t quite the same. She had a lovely perfume she used to wear, I think because she understood how important specific scents were to my father, and later her children. But underneath that she had her own smell, of skin and sweat and the outdoors that she loved.” 

Crowley leaned up and at the same time tugged Aziraphale down, kissing him. “You loved her.” 

“Very much.” 

Crowley lay back down and sought out Aziraphale’s hand, lacing their fingers together and resting their joined hands on his chest. “Mine smells like spiced apples, I think. From what I remember, anyway.” 

“She really wears those patches all the time?” 

“Unless she’s in the den with my father, yes. I burst into it a couple of times when I was young and was given a proper tongue lashing for it. I learned early on not to tread where I wasn’t welcome.” And he struggled to recall the exact mix of scents on his mother’s neck. 

“Crowley.” 

“My father scented me, though.” Crowley offered Aziraphale a weak smile. “You knew that. He smells like lavender. My sister, she took after him. She’s got a floral scent, like roses.” 

“I’d like to meet her someday.” 

Crowley scoffed. “I’d love for you to meet her, too, but she’s in Paris with her mate. You know I haven’t ever met my nephew? She has a one-and-a-half-year-old daughter and is pregnant with another pup.” He wondered how she was doing. He’d sent her letters, but rarely received replies. The last one had been not long before his marriage to Aziraphale was announced, telling him of her new pregnancy and her wish for him to meet her children. 

“We could go to Paris.” Aziraphale’s face was unreadable. 

“What?” Crowley hadn’t thought of that. He hadn’t even been to London. His parents hadn’t allowed him to travel, so the thought of going to Paris seemed impossible. “We couldn’t, it is so far away.” 

“Not so terribly far.” 

Crowley’s stomach coiled in knots. He rolled over and pressed his face into Aziraphale’s stomach. Aziraphale ran steady fingers through his hair.

“You promised you’d take me to London.” Maybe the hard part was thinking about seeing his sister again, after everything that had passed. She was only two years younger than he was, but she had children, she was making her mate happy. 

“I did. I could make the arrangements anytime. Would you like to go?” 

Would he? Crowley sighed, then nodded. 

“Then I’ll begin to make the arrangements.” 

Within two weeks, they were in a carriage on their way toward London. Crowley watched the scenery through the window, the curtain pulled aside. Aziraphale sat with their thighs touching, a hand laid against Crowley’s thigh. It grounded him, kept Crowley focused on breathing in Aziraphale’s scent whenever the thought of traveling made him nervous. 

They were only staying for three days, with the promise to leave sooner if Crowley hated it. 

“Where are we staying again?” 

“A bed and breakfast. I’ve stayed there before on business. Lovely owners, they make a very nice quiche.” Aziraphale squeezed his thigh. Crowley shifted his weight and leaned into Aziraphale without taking his eyes off the scenery. 

It wasn’t too long before fields and villages gave way to more populated cobblestone streets. They were nearing the outskirts of London and the roads were busy with other carriages, single riders on horses, and the occasional automobile trundling by. Crowley sought out Aziraphale’s hand and laced their fingers together. 

Aziraphale’s lips brushed his temple before he nuzzled their cheeks together, tilting his head up enough to brush more of his scent into Crowley’s skin. Crowley leaned into it, eyes falling shut as he allowed his Alpha to mark him. It steadied his nerves, knowing they wouldn’t be apart unless he wished them to be. 

“We’ll feed the ducks at St. James park,” Aziraphale murmured. “And eat delicious food, and I’ve got us tickets to a show.” 

Crowley hadn’t seen a proper play, outside of little local theatre. His mother had never been a fan of the theatre, and the few times she went to London with his father, he and his sister were left with a nanny. Now his mother was far away, no longer strangling him with her overprotective and bossy nature. He was free. 

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a lovely three-story home. It looked taller than it was wide, situated between two similar buildings. Aziraphale helped him out of the carriage as a young Omega, around Crowley’s age perhaps, jogged out and hailed them. 

“I’m here to grab your bags, sirs!” He offered them an easy smile. The Omega was pale with shaggy brown hair pulled into a stubby ponytail. He smelled like sweat and metal. 

“Just in the back there,” Aziraphale instructed before he led Crowley into the building. The foyer had a long table pushed up against the wall with what appeared to be a guest book, along with vases of flowers and photographs of London. Crowley’s fingers remained twined with Aziraphale’s as he leaned in to look at the photographs, pausing to touch tulip petals with his free hand. 

“Mister Aziraphale!” Crowley glanced up just in time to see Aziraphale greeted with a kiss to each cheek by a petite Alpha woman, her brown and greying hair bundled back into a bun on her head. Aziraphale smiled. 

“Mrs. Levy,” he greeted in return, accepting her affection. Crowley was confused by it, but chalked it up to Mrs. Levy being an older Alpha. She was motherly, so the affection made some sense, and Crowley was partial to her scent. She smelled like she’d been cooking with herbs, rosemary and basil, all fresh scents. 

Behind her appeared another Alpha, dark skinned with warm brown eyes. He smelled like saltwater, like seaspray. He set a hand on Mrs. Levy’s shoulder and squeezed, leaning down to kiss the side of her head before he greeted Aziraphale. 

“And Mr. Levy,” Aziraphale replied, taking the hand that was offered in a firm shake. “It is lovely to see you both again.” 

“It has been a while!” Mrs. Levy’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I’ve made the orange and cranberry scones you like so much, in anticipation of your arrival.” Her gaze slid to Crowley. “And this must be your husband?” She stepped around Aziraphale and approached. 

Crowley offered a nervous smile, stomach fluttering. There were three Alphas and a part of his mind insisted he ought to slink behind Aziraphale and hide. Instead, he steeled himself and accepted her hand on his bicep where she squeezed and gave him a once-over. 

“My, my, you snagged a handsome one my dear. I’m Mrs. Levy, or Caroline if you’d like.” 

“Crowley,” Crowley murmured, cheeks hot. 

“Darling.” Mr. Levy tugged her back toward him. “You’re overwhelming the poor boy.” 

“I’m fine!” Crowley insisted, but then he glanced over at Aziraphale who stepped closer and nuzzled him. Crowley allowed the scent of cocoa and vanilla to wash over him, humming as he pressed his nose against Aziraphale’s jaw. 

“I’m sorry dear boy,” Mrs. Levy frowned in concern. “I forget myself sometimes and I hope you’ll forgive me.” 

Aziraphale’s arm around his waist was distracting, but he nodded. “Of course. No harm done.” 

“Well. I’ll show you two to your room, hm? I hope you don’t mind that I upgraded you to the larger room, dear. No extra cost, but I don’t think we’ll fill it over these few days and I thought you and your mate would like the extra space. Come, come.” Mrs. Levy began up the stairs. 

Mate. Crowley’s head spun a little bit as he glanced at Aziraphale, who in return gave him a curious look. Of course he thought of Aziraphale as his mate, but to hear someone else say it was still so new. So strange.  _ Mate _ . 

Aziraphale led him up the stairs and he caught sight of a bite at the place where Mrs. Levy’s neck met her shoulder, the scar long faded but still clearly visible to anyone looking. It was placed where an Omega’s mark might be, which didn’t make any sense to him. Why would an Alpha have a bite there? 

“Here we are.” She opened the door and ushered them inside. It was far smaller than their room back home, but it was warm and cozy. The bedding was a floral pattern, not terribly obnoxious, with muted blues and purples. There was a dresser and beside it, their bags. “This one has an ensuite which I thought you’d appreciate.” 

“I do, thank you so much. You know how to take care of me,” Aziraphale said with a smile. Mrs. Levy returned it. 

“I’ll leave you boys to get settled. Tea will be downstairs when you’d like it.” With that, she left, closing the door behind them. 

Crowley pressed into Aziraphale’s side and rubbed his cheek against his scent gland, taking comfort in the smell. 

“Are you alright, my love?” Aziraphale asked, resting a steady hand on the back of Crowley’s neck. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in a foyer with three Alphas before,” Crowley admitted. Normally, if he were to be near an Alpha it was a parent or a family friend. Rarely, if ever, would there be reason for him to be in an enclosed space with more than one. “Are they married?” 

“Yes.” Aziraphale chuckled and kissed Crowley’s temple. “They are.” 

“Two Alphas?” 

“It happens more often than you might think.” 

Crowley made a disbelieving noise. He had a lot of questions, none of which were polite to ask. 

“People are just people, Crowley.” Aziraphale squeezed the back of his neck and then stepped away to remove his jacket and hat. “There’s more to compatibility than secondary genders.” 

“I  _ guess _ .” Crowley huffed. He liked Aziraphale and tried to imagine if they’d get along half as well if they weren’t what they were. If they were both betas, would he still have fallen in love with him? As he watched Aziraphale putter around the room and begin to unpack their belongings, he liked to believe he would. 

As Aziraphale put their clothes away in the dresser he walked up behind him and put his arms around him, burying his face between his shoulder blades. He moved when Aziraphale did, and Aziraphale didn’t appear to mind the clinging for a while until he turned around and properly embraced Crowley. 

“There’s tea downstairs,” he reminded him. 

“I don’t want tea.” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale leaned down and pressed a kiss beneath his ear, then moved his lips against his neck. Crowley tilted his head to make more space for his attentions, humming. 

“I think we should break in that big bed.” 

Aziraphale’s chuckle against his skin made him squirm. “What if I said tea first, then breaking in the bed?” 

Crowley sighed, but knew it was likely the more polite direction to go in. They cleaned up and went downstairs to join the Levys for tea. Crowley allowed Aziraphale to carry the conversation, nibbling at his scone as he listened. 

“And what sort of work do you do, Crowley?” Mr. Levy asked. Crowley looked up, confused. 

“Sorry?” 

“Work?” Mr. Levy glanced back at Aziraphale, then smiled at Crowley. 

“I. Er.” Crowley glanced down at his plate. “I don’t work?” 

“That’s hardly true,” Aziraphale interjected. “You’ve been doing lovely work in the garden, and you’ve got your plant room.” 

“That’s not  _ work _ ,” Crowley huffed, glancing at Aziraphale. “That’s just keeping busy.” 

“Not many opportunities that far out of the city, hm?” Mr. Levy took a sip of his tea. “It is lucky Aziraphale can do his work at home.” 

Crowley hadn’t ever really thought about it. His parents hadn’t allowed him to even entertain the notion of picking up a trade. His father, now that the children were grown, had picked up basic woodworking in his free time. But outside of that, he hadn’t worked. His job, and what Crowley had been taught, was to care for the children, even if his father hadn’t been the one to bear them. His mother was a businesswoman, managing finances like her Alpha father before her. 

“I suppose.” Crowley stuffed another piece of scone into his mouth, hoping to avoid answering more questions. 

Aziraphale laid a hand against his thigh and squeezed. “You really are a marvelous gardener, though. You’ve done lovely work with the grounds and our green room is my favorite in the house aside from our nest.” 

Crowley ducked his head. His Alpha was complimenting him in front of others, grateful for the paltry work he’d been able to do in lieu of providing children or learning real work. It didn’t quite sit well with Crowley, who found his gardening to be nothing but a hobby. An enjoyable one of course, something to keep him busy while Aziraphale had to work, but it was hardly work in and of itself. 

“Poor dear.” Mrs. Levy reached out and pat Crowley’s hand, smiling at him. He glanced up at her and found warm eyes gazing back. “You’ll figure out what you like to do. Maybe it is as simple as producing award winning plants, hm? Or maybe you’ll find a trade. It is a big world out there, lots of opportunities.” 

_ Not for me _ , Crowley wanted to insist, but he glanced over at Aziraphale and realized he didn’t have to live by his parent’s rules. Aziraphale hardly did. He laid his hand atop Aziraphale’s and Aziraphale’s face brightened. He leaned over and kissed Crowley on the cheek, nuzzling his ear, brushing him with his scent. 

Crowley blushed, but his tension eased as he met Mrs. Levy’s gaze again. “You’re right. I’ll figure something out. A lot of this is still new to me.” 

The rest of the conversation was pleasant, Crowley included in the conversation in a way he would have never been in his old life. Mr. and Mrs. Levy were a kind pair who had been running their bed and breakfast for the better part of a decade. Mr. Levy continued his trade as an electrician, as the city had moved rapidly into embracing wired houses. Homes out in the countryside like Aziraphale’s still relied on oil lamps and fire for light. 

Mrs. Levy focused on the bed and breakfast, wanting to create an oasis from the chaos of the city. 

They worked their way through a couple pots of tea and more scones than Crowley probably should have eaten before he and Aziraphale excused themselves. Aziraphale led him up the stairs with a hand on his back and the moment they were behind closed doors, he kissed him. Crowley sighed into it, arms going up around Aziraphale’s neck as he pressed into the kiss. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered as he pinned Crowley against the wall and continued to kiss him. Crowley groaned, running a hand through Aziraphale’s hair. Breaking the kiss, Aziraphale rubbed his scent all over Crowley’s jaw and cheeks, growling softly. 

“Mm. Alpha.” Crowley laughed, a little breathless as he realized Aziraphale was being possessive. He knew he smelled distantly like the two Alpha’s downstairs, but it was quickly drowned out by the wet drag of scenting oil on his skin. “Yours, yours Aziraphale. I’m yours.” 

Aziraphale eased, gently biting at Crowley’s neck before he stole another kiss. 

“So two Alphas,” Crowley began with an easy smile. It was always easier to be happier around Aziraphale. He stroked the nape of Aziraphale’s neck and leaned in to kiss his jaw and smear a little of his own scent onto him. 

“Hm?” Aziraphale lifted him with hands beneath his thighs and walked him over to the bed, setting him down. Crowley flopped back on it and kicked off his boots, wiggling until he laid on it correctly, head on the pillows. Aziraphale removed his own boots, setting both pairs by the door before he joined Crowley on the bed. 

“I know you said it isn’t that strange but…” Crowley hesitated, rolling onto his side. He laid his hand on Aziraphale’s chest and toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I mean. How does any of that work?” 

Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose as he tilted his head to brush a kiss to Crowley’s forehead. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean…” Crowley huffed and laid his cheek against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I don’t know. The dynamics. I mean, I guess since they’re a man and a woman it makes it a little simpler than if it were two male Alphas.” 

Aziraphale huffed. “You don’t think Alpha men are happy to submit?” 

Crowley frowned. “No?” 

“Wait a moment.” Aziraphale pushed Crowley onto his back and hovered above him, gazing down. “You really believe that?” 

Crowley frowned, stomach twisting. He felt stupid somehow, like he’d missed some important lesson. He glanced away. “Forget it.” 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s voice lost some of the surprise, dipping into something warmer and a bit more welcoming. Aziraphale carded a hand through his hair but didn’t make him look at him, instead choosing to lean in and nose at his cheek, nuzzling. “Do you enjoy it when I fuck you?” 

Crowley shivered and tilted his head to bump his nose against Aziraphale’s before he pulled him into a hug. Aziraphale’s weight against him was comforting and he liked being able to tuck his face away in the curve of his neck. “Yes.” 

“And do you like it because you’re an Omega, or do you like it because it feels good?” 

“It feels good, but that’s  _ because _ I’m an Omega.” Crowley closed his eyes. 

“Mm. Is that what they’ve told you?” Aziraphale shifted onto his side to better pull Crowley into his arms, holding him close. 

“Yes.” It wasn’t entirely true, but they certainly hadn’t ever told him that Alphas enjoyed that sort of thing. Now, Crowley’s mother had clearly been willing to receive from his father since she’d been the one to bear children, but it hadn’t seemed like it was something done because she enjoyed it. She just liked having control. 

“Well, what if I told you I don’t mind it?” Aziraphale rested a comforting hand against the back of his neck, steady and warm. 

“You’ve, er…” 

“Yes.” Aziraphale let out a huffed laugh, fingers digging into the muscles at the base of his neck. Crowley hummed. “And if you were ever interested, I’d accept it from you, too.” 

He tried to picture it, pressing Aziraphale down into the bed and opening him up like he did Crowley. What would it be like, sliding into the heat of him? Aziraphale seemed to like it, and Crowley enjoyed the feeling of being so close to him, having him inside of him. 

“You’d want it?” Crowley asked, tongue sticking in his mouth. 

“If you wanted to give it, yes. And if you didn’t? That’s alright, too. I’m quite content to, what do they say…” He leaned in right next to Crowley’s ear, “pound you into the mattress.” 

“Angel!” Crowley shoved him back with a laugh, finally meeting his gaze. “ _ Who _ says that?” 

“Anathema may have mentioned the phrase once or twice.” Aziraphale smiled and reached up to rest a hand against Crowley’s cheek, thumb stroking along the line of his nose. 

“Maybe.” 

“Hm?” 

“Maybe I’ll...maybe I’d like to. You know.” He wrinkled his nose. “Top.” 

Aziraphale kissed his nose. “I would like that very much.” 

“But you still enjoy er, doing it to me, right?” Crowley worried for a moment that this was Aziraphale’s way of telling him he’d been unsatisfying. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale once more pushed Crowley onto his back. Crowley reached for him and Aziraphale grasped his wrists and gently pressed them into the bed. It immediately went to Crowley’s cock and he whimpered, squirming. Taking pity on him, Aziraphale leaned forward so Crowley could grind down on his leg as they kissed. “Very much,” Aziraphale said when they paused to catch their breath. 

“Mm.” Crowley relaxed and tried to tamp down on the affection swelling in his chest, threatening to burst. “What are we doing tonight?” 

“I thought we’d go to dinner. Tomorrow, we’ll be tourists. Then tomorrow evening I have tickets to a show, if you’d like to go.” 

“I would.” Crowley tugged his hands free and drew Aziraphale into another kiss. “I’m happy to be here with you.” 

Aziraphale beamed. “I’m happy you’re here with me.” He dipped his head down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Crowley’s pulse, biting down gently. “Now...how about we take care of this?” He reached down and cupped Crowley through his trousers. 

Crowley arched up into the touch with a groan, tilting his head back. “Yes. Let’s.” 

Chuckling, Aziraphale tongued at his scent gland. The sensation overwhelmed Crowley, shivering in spite of himself. “Angel.” 

“Mmhm?” Aziraphale continued his attentions, sucking on his neck and rubbing Crowley through his trousers. It was a combination that nearly took him over the edge. 

“Stop!” Crowley groaned and Aziraphale let up, peering down at him curiously. 

“Alright?” 

“I don’t want to ruin my trousers,” Crowley admitted, drawing Aziraphale into a kiss. He tasted his own scent oil on Aziraphale’s tongue. 

“Oh?” Aziraphale smiled and sat back, undoing the clasps of Crowley’s trousers. He tugged them down, taking his pants down with them. He was naked from the waist down except for his socks and shivered, cock resting hard and hot against his belly where his shirt rode up. 

Crowley let out a shaking breath as he spread his legs and glanced at Aziraphale. Aziraphale leaned down and pressed kisses to the insides of his thighs, switching between them, hands warm and steady on his legs. His nose nudged Crowley’s balls and then his hot tongue was against them, Crowley letting out a strangled moan as he grasped at the sheets. 

Aziraphale trailed kisses up the underside of Crowley’s cock and then lapped at the head. Crowley peered down at him, Aziraphale staring right back as he smeared precome against his lips. It was obscene, but his mate enjoyed him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever understand Aziraphale’s love of his taste. 

“Aziraphale?” He reached out for him and Aziraphale pressed a parting kiss to the underside of his cock before he settled over Crowley and kissed him. Crowley let go of the sheets and reached up to run his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair, sighing contentedly into his mouth. 

“I’m right here, my love. Whenever you want me.” Aziraphale nuzzled their noses together. 

“Take me,” Crowley murmured, kissing Aziraphale’s jaw. “I want you inside of me.” 

“Mm.” Aziraphale growled, his scent dark and heavy. He kissed Crowley with a bit more intent before he slipped out of his arms and into the attached bathroom. He returned with a jar and Crowley watched him approach as anticipation built up in his stomach and hips. It took a lot of self control not to touch himself, but he knew if he did he’d lose it before Aziraphale could get inside of him. He took off his shirt instead. 

Aziraphale set the jar on the bed and began to strip, leaving his layers folded neatly on top of the dresser before he settled between Crowley’s legs. He situated Crowley’s hips up on a pillow to give himself an easier angle before he slicked up his fingers and ran them along the cleft of Crowley’s arse. Crowley let out a slow breath and Aziraphale leaned down to kiss his belly as he slid a finger into him. 

Crowley squirmed, encouraging Aziraphale along. They’d done it enough that he knew how to relax, how to push back, and how to angle his hips to get the right brush of fingers. By the time Aziraphale had three fingers inside of him, he was more than ready, cock aching. “Please.” 

“Yes, of course.” Aziraphale slicked himself up and wasted no time in pressing the fat head of his cock against Crowley. He was thick, if not particularly long, and spread Crowley open with his cock as he pressed inside. Crowley arched his back and reached out, finding one of Aziraphale’s hands. He laced their fingers together and held on, wanting multiple points of contact. 

Aziraphale slid into him and once he bottomed out, leaned his body over Crowley’s to bring their lips together. He started with slow rolls of his hips, letting Crowley adjust. Crowley moved his legs around Aziraphale so his heels rested against his lower back, digging in as he urged him forward. 

“Mm.” Aziraphale growled into his jaw as he nipped at it, then buried his face in the side of Crowley’s neck. “Oh, my love, you feel so wonderful. So tight and hot.” 

“Ngk.” Crowley laid a hand against the back of Aziraphale’s flushed neck, stroking his sweaty skin. Aziraphale hummed and the gentle rolls of his hips became stuttered snaps, Crowley twitching and arching with every movement. He gasped at one particularly hard thrust, followed by a long, drawn out keening. 

Then Aziraphale pulled out of him, leaving him aching and empty. He made a questioning noise in Aziraphale’s general direction. Aziraphale was panting into his neck, his body shuddering. 

“Alpha?” Crowley whined, nudging him with his nose. 

“I, ah,” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I had a moment where I was...I need a moment to gain control.” 

“Control?” 

“I want to knot you.” Aziraphale grimaced, Crowley saw the corner of his mouth curl into a frown. 

“That’s all?” 

Aziraphale laughed, startled. He turned blue eyes on Crowley. “That’s all? Darling…” 

“You say it as if I haven’t thought about it every time you’ve fucked me. I’m on suppressants, knotting me isn’t going to do anything except make a mess.” Crowley shrugged. 

“You’re not slick.” Aziraphale huffed. “It isn’t...that isn’t what it is  _ for _ .” 

“Then make me slick.” Crowley turned his head to brush the tip of his nose to Aziraphale’s. “And you know I get slick during this. Not as if I weren’t on suppressants but...er. I think I could take you.” 

“Crowley.” 

“I’d  _ prefer _ this to be in our nest, where you could curl around me and we could stay in bed however long after we need to. I’d also  _ prefer _ not to leak everywhere. But…” Crowley was flushed, and wanting, and the fact Aziraphale was willing thrilled some deep, feral part of him. “You can’t just offer and take it away.” 

Aziraphale kissed him. “If it seems like it is hurting you, I’ll stop.” 

“I hope so.” Crowley offered up a smile. 

“Alright. On your knees.” 

Crowley shuddered and rolled over. Aziraphale pressed kisses along his spine and did away with the pillow that had been beneath Crowley’s hips. He kissed all the way down to his arse and then Crowley heard the scrape of the jar being opened again. Cold slick was added around his hole, and then Aziraphale was fingering him again. He groaned, rolling his hips back in, shuddering when a fourth finger nudged in. 

“Oh shit.” Crowley pressed his face into the pillow, muffling his cries. “Shit.” He was full, but it scratched an itch that lived somewhere in his hindbrain. He was going to be attached to his Alpha, claimed by him. The fingers were removed and Aziraphale’s cock replaced them again, pushing him open. As he thrust, Crowley felt the start of his knot slipping into him. It meant Aziraphale pushed further into him than he ever had before. 

It was fantastic. He curled his fingers in the blankets that weren’t his, face buried in a pillow that barely smelled like them. He whined as Aziraphale’s knot stretched him, slipping in and out as Aziraphale picked up the pace. It was also swelling. 

“Omega,” Aziraphale snarled, mouthing at the bundle of nerves on Crowley’s neck. He’d let him bite him, Crowley realized in his lust addled mind. He’d allow his Alpha to bite him, claim him. He almost begged for it, except Aziraphale’s knot had swollen and now he was grinding into Crowley making desperate noises against his shoulder before he stuttered to a stop and cried out against his skin. 

Crowley burned as Aziraphale’s cock pulsed inside of him. He ground back into Aziraphale’s hips, caught, unable to detach and right there on the edge. “Alpha,” he whined loudly, continuing to grind back. 

Aziraphale pawed at his cock before he finally wrapped his fingers around him. He stroked him, mouthing along the side of Crowley’s neck until he got to his earlobe and bit down. Crowley’s whole body tensed and he thought he would implode, his body shaking and jerking as he spilled over Aziraphale’s hand. He continued to shove his hips back, trying to ride out the stuffed feeling, whining before he bit down on his pillow and enjoyed the way it gave beneath his teeth. 

He collapsed into his own mess, Aziraphale following him down, buried inside of him and continuing to spill. Crowley could feel the hot pulses and the pressure of being so full. It was mildly uncomfortable, but he was so exhausted from his orgasm that he couldn’t do anything except accept the state he was in. 

Aziraphale growled and nuzzled his neck, behind his ear, along his hairline. He smelled like dark chocolate, rich and warm, Crowley could taste it in the air and on his skin. 

“My mate,” Aziraphale murmured, breath hot against Crowley’s cheek. “Okay?” 

“Mmhm.” Crowley allowed Aziraphale to maneuver them so they lay on their sides, Crowley’s back pressed to Aziraphale’s front. Aziraphale ran the flat of his palm over Crowley’s chest and stomach, through the mess splashed onto his skin. He kissed Crowley’s neck. 

“Are you warm enough?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Mm.” With sweat cooling on his skin, there was a slight chill. “No.” 

Aziraphale grunted and leaned over Crowley to grope around. He managed to locate a blanket and dragged it over them, curling more completely around Crowley. “Better?” 

“Better.” Crowley’s mind floated as Aziraphale continued to shower him with affection, little kisses and touches everywhere he could reach while they were joined. 

“Sleep.” Aziraphale kissed beneath his ear. “It will be a little while.” 

“‘Zira?” Crowley mumbled, very close to doing just that. 

“Hm?” 

“I love you.” 

A smile curled against his shoulder. “I love you too,” Aziraphale whispered. 

Crowley napped. Aziraphale remained plastered against his back and he startled awake later when that warmth began to pull away. 

“Alpha?” He whimpered, reaching out blindly. Aziraphale pressed back up against him. 

“You’re a mess,” he whispered. “I was going to get something to clean you up.” 

With that, Crowley realized he was no longer full. He was cold and slick, leaking what was likely Aziraphale’s cum. It reminded him too much of being in heat and he shuddered. “Don’t leave.” 

Aziraphale nuzzled against his shoulder. “I’m right here my love. I won’t leave.” 

He knew he would leave a wet spot, leave a mess, but Crowley felt too vulnerable to be without Aziraphale. Part of him knew it was biology that left him feeling like that, because his hindbrain insisted that he had just been bred, and he wanted to nest and be near his mate until the uncertainty passed. 

“Crowley, you’re trembling.” Aziraphale brushed his hair out of his face and kissed his temple. “You’re likely cold, and you’re messy, and the sheets are going to be wet. Can I at least take you in for a bath? Let me take care of you.” 

Crowley breathed in and out a few times before he nodded, carefully rolling over despite his muscles smarting at him. He was sore. Aziraphale tutted and shifted so he could scoop Crowley up into his arms. He was taken to the ensuite bathroom where he was set on his feet near the tub. The bathroom had faucets, one labeled hot, another cold, and Aziraphale messed with them until the temperature pleased him and they poured into the tub. 

Crowley plastered himself up against Aziraphale’s side and nosed at his neck. Aziraphale turned toward him, allowing him all the access he wanted to skin and scent. The water gurgled and splashed as the tub filled and Aziraphale ran a hand up and down his back. He continued to leak, cum slipping down between his thighs. 

Once the water was shut off, Aziraphale helped Crowley into it. It was a huge claw-foot tub, just big enough for Aziraphale to slip in behind him. He lounged back against Aziraphale’s chest, sinking into the warm water. It eased his aching muscles. 

“How are you feeling?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Sore. Gross.” He laughed and turned his head to kiss Aziraphale’s jaw. “You uh, left a lot inside of me.” 

Aziraphale snorted. “Can’t help it. It comes with the knot.” 

“So I’ve learned.”

“I’ll make sure you’re cleaned up before we get out of the tub.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mm. It is my job.” Aziraphale put his arms around Crowley’s waist and squeezed him gently. He pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek. 

“Where are we going for dinner?” 

“Anywhere you’d like.” 

“Yeah?” Crowley smiled. “How about...Spanish food?” 

Aziraphale gave him a look. “Have you had Spanish food?” 

“Nope.” Crowley emphasized the ‘p’. “First thing that came to mind.” 

Aziraphale hummed. “I know a place.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday. 
> 
> As I said above, feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) or [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale take on London, day two!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woof. You guys. This week had felt like a whole year. I made it safely to Oregon. I've set up shop in my family's guest room and am working remotely. I definitely didn't bring enough clothes, but oh well. No going back now. Oregon has a stay-at-home order in place, so I've mostly been working and playing Animal Crossing. 
> 
> I'll be honest, this is HARD y'all. Life for all of us has been severely disrupted and I don't even know when I'm going to be able to go back to NYC, or my life as it was. And other folks are even worse off, and my heart hurts for them. So anyway, where ever this finds you know you're not alone, and that we're all trying to weather this storm together to the best of our ability. My sister keeps telling me it is okay to be sad - we're all grieving the loss of what life was, and trying to make sense of a new normal. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the chapter. I'll keep writing. If nothing else, we've got Wednesdays.

After their bath, Aziraphale fussed over Crowley. He refused to let him dry himself, insistent on doing it for him. He ran the soft towel over every inch of him, then wrapped it around Crowley’s waist and nuzzled against his neck. 

Crowley huffed. “You’re clingy.” 

Aziraphale tilted his head and eyed him. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No.” Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders and leaned his head against him. Aziraphale tucked the towel in so it would cling to Crowley’s hips and then tugged him into a hug. Willingly sinking into it, Crowley pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s shoulder, tongue darting out to taste his clean skin. 

He was still sore and shifted to accommodate. Aziraphale made a concerned noise.

“I’m just a little sore,” Crowley admitted. 

“That’s normal. Would you like me to give you a massage?” 

Aziraphale ended up giving Crowley a lovely massage, working all his sore muscles out. Then he picked out their outfits for the evening and for once, Crowley let him. He hated to admit he enjoyed being doted on by his Alpha, but thankfully no one was asking him to. He merely allowed things to happen, such as Aziraphale straightening the collar of his shirt, and tying a tie for him. 

Crowley’s nose did wrinkle at the tie. 

“You look handsome,” Aziraphale insisted. “Be grateful I’m not putting you in a bow tie, hm?” 

“Bow ties are more your thing anyway. I’d hate to infringe on your look.” Crowley drew Aziraphale into a kiss. Aziraphale indulged him before he gently pushed him away. 

“None of that. Start that sort of thing again and we’ll never leave.” 

They walked to the restaurant. As promised, the sign outside boasted Spanish specials and Crowley could smell roasted meat and spices wafting from inside the building. Aziraphale led them in and got them a table, a Beta leading them over and making sure they had drinks. Aziraphale ordered a glass of wine while Crowley went with sangria. 

“You should order,” Crowley said as he nudged Aziraphale’s foot beneath the table. 

“Mm. Of course. I’ll order a few things and we can share.” Aziraphale took a sip of his wine as he looked over the menu. While he did that, Crowley began to look about. At first he had barely been able to tell that there were other folks in the space who weren’t wearing patches. The food smells had overpowered the scents. 

Once he’d gotten used to the food, he was able to pick up other underlying scents. None particularly strong - it seemed that most in the restaurant were calm or happy, but they were there. His eyes trailed over couples and individuals, even families, as he tried to identify who in the room was an Alpha. Those were the ones that made him most nervous, after all. 

A touch to his arm distracted him and he glanced up at Aziraphale. 

“Alright, love?” Aziraphale asked, running his hand up and down Crowley’s arm. He was warm even though the fabric of Crowley’s sleeve. 

“Mm. Yeah.” He smiled and turned his attention back to Aziraphale, happily sipping his sangria and once again bumping Aziraphale’s foot beneath the table. Aziraphale shot him an amused look. 

Halfway through their food, something caught Crowley’s attention. He paused and glanced around trying to find the source of it. His eyes landed on another man, maybe a little older than him, with mid length wavy blonde hair tied back into a half ponytail. There were tears in his eyes, visible even from where Crowley sat, and across from him his apparent partner tried to console him. 

Crowley could smell the sorrow and knew it belonged to an Omega. He could also smell his partner - an Alpha - and the distress began to make him uncomfortable. He glanced at Aziraphale and that caught his attention as he looked concerned once more. “Crowley?” 

“Can’t you - can’t you smell it?” The distress of the other Omega caused his own to perk up and respond, desiring to soothe and help as much as the Alpha’s scent made him want to stay away. It left him with a certain buzzing under his skin, like anxiety. It was anxiety. He could smell other scents then, other reactions. He was confused as to how Aziraphale could look so unbothered. How could he not smell the emotions on the air?

Crowley abruptly stood up and left the restaurant. He gulped in the fresh air outside and paced to and fro on the sidewalk in front. He hugged himself, trying to remember the last time he’d been exposed to that many scents in an enclosed space. Why had no one else reacted like him? It was just business as usual when there was something in distress, how could - 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s hand came to rest on his shoulder and pulled his nervous pacing to a stop. “Love. Darling.” 

Crowley shook his head, the buzzing sensation impossibly heightened now that he couldn’t move to dispel it. “Alpha.” 

“ **Be calm** ,” Aziraphale insisted in a firm tone that touched something in Crowley’s mind. He could breathe again, like he did when Anathema commanded him away from Aziraphale’s door. His anxiety was still there but his Alpha was, too, and his Alpha wanted him to be calm. 

“Would you like to come here?” Aziraphale held open his arms in an offer and Crowley accepted it, stepping into the circle of them. He buried his face against Aziraphale’s shoulder while Aziraphale rubbed his back. “You’re alright.” 

Crowley took a few deep breaths and then tucked his nose against Aziraphale’s jumper, breathing in his scent, and the scent of the restaurant. He remembered their half-eaten food and guilt began to nip at his heels. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No,” Aziraphale cut him off before he could say anything more. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.” 

“It didn’t bother you at all being in there?” Crowley peeked up at Aziraphale who didn’t look back at him. 

“No. I’m rather used to it all. I’ve grown accustomed to ignoring scents unless I need to pay attention.” 

“Oh.” Crowley tilted his head and nuzzled against Aziraphale’s neck. 

“You’ll get used to it, too, I think. The more we do this sort of thing.” 

“You’d bring me back?” Crowley asked, and finally Aziraphale looked at him and seemed puzzled. 

“Of course I would. If you wanted to come back. We can go back in right now if you’d like.” 

“Even after I made a scene?” 

“ _ Crowley _ .” Aziraphale sounded so helplessly lost. “You didn’t make a scene. I told the waiter you needed some air and he understood, and he’d be happy to wrap up our meals for us if that’s our preference. People understand these things.” 

Crowley closed his eyes. A small part of him, the stubborn part, wanted to force himself back into a situation that made him uncomfortable just to prove he could. The bigger part won out. “We should take the food to go.” 

“Of course.” Aziraphale kissed the top of his head. “Let me go settle our bill and get our food. Would you like to wait out here?” 

Crowley nodded. Aziraphale smiled. “I’ll be right back, then.” 

Crowley waited outside and watched as people wandered by. He glanced up at a street lamp, the light flickering, bugs fluttering around near the flame. He watched it until Aziraphale returned and took his arm, leading him away. 

“Would you walk with me?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Of course, angel.” Crowley offered him a shy smile. 

Aziraphale led him to a sprawling park, paths lit by the same type of gas lamps near the restaurant. There was a creek that ran through it, and the distant sound of quacking ducks settling in for the night. The further away they got from the restaurant, the more at ease Crowley allowed himself to be. Aziraphale was right, he was okay.  _ They _ were okay. He inhaled, exhaled, and leaned into Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale pulled him to a stop near the water and they both looked out over the rippling surface which caught the dim flicker of the street lamps. Crowley breathed in spring smells, noting there had to be roses of some sort nearby, or another sweet smelling flower. He closed his eyes. 

“Better?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley nodded and laid his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Sorry.” 

“Mm. No apologies. No harm done.” 

Crowley wasn’t so sure about that. “Don’t you get tired of it?” 

“Of what?” 

Crowley kept his eyes closed. “Me.” 

There was a soft intake of breath before Crowley was guided away from the water and to a bench. Aziraphale set the bag holding their leftovers on the ground as he sat, pulling Crowley down with him. He had no choice but to open his eyes and look helplessly at Aziraphale, cheeks hot. 

Aziraphale cupped his face in his warm hands and studied him. They were quiet, Crowley’s words hanging in the air between them like laundry left to dry. Aziraphale’s thumb brushed against his cheek. “You really believe that I would, don’t you.” 

Crowley swallowed and averted his eyes. It was an answer unto itself. 

“We really ought to talk about this.” Aziraphale continued to stroke his cheek and Crowley finally closed his eyes. It was easier to be vulnerable when he was lost in the dark. “Why do you think I would grow tired of you?” 

“I’m a terrible Omega,” Crowley whispered. 

“What makes you say that?” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale’s hands carefully away from his face and sat so he could stare toward the water, arms crossed over his chest. “Do you want the whole list?” 

“Yes.” 

Crowley grimaced. “I wouldn’t spend rut with you. I don’t know if I ever want to spend your rut with you. I don’t know if I’ll ever be willing to give you children. I can’t - I can’t handle a little bit of travel. I can’t even handle a nice dinner out in a new town.” His leg bounced. “I feel like I’m a barely passable partner in bed. You always have to lead because I’m a coward.” 

A breeze touched his hot face and he blinked, tears running trails down his cheeks. “I feel like I’m lucky to have you as a husband, but that I’m so lackluster in comparison. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me.” 

The trees rustled in the breeze above them, the sound of running water doing little to soothe Crowley’s sorrow. Somehow it took leaving their home, their safety, for all of the baggage he’d been carrying to come to the surface. He took a shaking breath and the exhale came out as a sob. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale’s hands were careful, gentle, as he guided Crowley’s head to his shoulder. His hand rested warm and steady against the back of his neck as Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s jumper. He sniffled, trying not to get snot on the fabric, but it was impossible to stop now that his pain had finally been given space. Aziraphale hummed and drew him closer, rocking both of them once Crowley’s arms went around Aziraphale’s waist. 

“Shh, love.” Aziraphale ran a hand up and down his back, continuing to hum between soft shushes as Crowley cried his frustration into Aziraphale’s shoulder. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally cried himself out, breathing heavily, losing himself in Aziraphale’s scent and warmth. They sat in the quiet together, the sounds of the night coming to life around them. In the distance, a horse whinnied. 

“You are my husband,” Aziraphale whispered into his hair. “You are mine to cherish and protect. Did you know that sometimes I feel like a terrible Alpha?” 

Crowley made an unhappy noise. Aziraphale was a wonderful Alpha. 

“There are times where I want to protect you from the voices in your own mind, the ones that probably sound like your mother, or your teachers, or anyone else who tried to make you believe you are nothing more than your secondary gender. When I can’t, when I see the light go out of your eyes and see you withdraw, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to make you feel safe. I wish I could protect you from despair.” Aziraphale nuzzled his hairline. 

“And then there are times where your smile lights up the room you’re in, or you’re running around with the Them, or I spy on you when you’re gardening and your hands are covered in dirt and you look content, and I think perhaps if I’m not a good Alpha, I can at least be a good husband.” Crowley felt a dry press of lips to his temple. “We all have ideas and insecurities and worries, my love. They don’t make us ‘less than’. What they do is offer us chances to be honest, to grow, and to grow with each other.” 

Crowley sighed and curled his fingers in the soft give of Aziraphale’s jumper. 

“And I love you regardless of whether or not we have children, or if you spend a rut with me, or if you can sit in a restaurant. My love doesn’t come with conditions, Crowley. It is a choice I make every day and will continue to make because I enjoy being near you. I enjoy you in bed, I enjoy you in the garden, I enjoy lying beside you while you sleep…” 

“I don’t deserve you,” Crowley mumbled. Aziraphale nudged him and tilted his head with a hand to get him to look up. 

“Relationships aren’t about what we deserve or don’t,” Aziraphale insisted, bringing their foreheads together. “No one deserves anyone, but we still need each other.” 

Crowley bumped his nose against Aziraphale’s. “Can we go back to the inn?” 

“Of course.” Aziraphale wiped the remaining tears on Crowley’s cheeks away with a gentle touch and then kissed him between the eyes. 

They walked hand-in-hand, fingers laced, back to the bed and breakfast. The Levys were nowhere to be seen so they headed up to the bedroom. It smelled a little more like them which eased some of the tension in Crowley’s body. It was a makeshift den, the bed a temporary nest.

“Wait here. I’m going to put our leftovers in the icebox.” Aziraphale left the room and Crowley stripped off his tie and began to unbutton his shirt. When Aziraphale returned, he helped him out of it, steady hands lifting the undershirt up and over Crowley’s head. Aziraphale leaned in and pressed a kiss to Crowley’s neck, then his throat, then the hollow of his throat. Crowley reached out and guided Aziraphale’s mouth to his own, kissing him. 

“Take me to bed, Alpha,” Crowley whispered. He was exhausted, his body wrung out physically and emotionally. Aziraphale hummed and helped Crowley strip completely before doing away with his own clothes. They crawled into bed together after turning off the lamp and Aziraphale spooned up against Crowley’s back, face tucked into the curve of his neck. 

He focused on the rise and fall of Aziraphale’s chest against his back, trying to match his breathing. In, out, repeat. But it failed to do away with the hollow, gnawed out feeling taking up residence in his chest. Anytime he found the quiet peaceful, something made a sound. The building creaked, there were footsteps, he could hear the clip-clop of horses outside on the cobblestone. 

It made him realize he missed their quiet den and the nest that smelled like them. 

“How can I help you?” Aziraphale asked against his shoulder, kissing it. “What will soothe you?” 

“I don’t know.” Crowley huffed. “Tell me a story?” 

“That, I can do.” Aziraphale began to tell him a story about an angel and a demon who met before the world really began, in a garden. The Garden. It seemed like such a silly premise, but it was enough to soothe Crowley to sleep as Aziraphale explained the angel’s insistence on the finer points of oysters. 

When Crowley woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he was still sore. He shifted, groaning, and then pulled the blankets up over his head. His traitorous sleep-addled mind wondered if Aziraphale had decided to leave him after all and he tried to chase the thoughts away by falling back asleep. 

The bed shifted and a hand wrested the blankets away from him, drawing them down to rest against his lower back. Then Aziraphale’s hand massaged his shoulder while he pressed his lips to the nape of his neck. “Sleep well?” 

“Mmhm.” Crowley relaxed into the bed and allowed Aziraphale to rub his shoulders for a moment or two before he turned enough to tug him down, snuggling back into his arms. He was thankfully still undressed, skin sleep-warm and smelling like both of them. “I don’t like waking up without you.” 

“That was not my intention, I promise.” Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, fussing with a tangled bit. “I had only gotten up to relieve myself.” 

“Hmph.” Crowley nuzzled his shoulder and settled, dozing. Aziraphale chuckled. 

“I think Mrs. Levy was going to make her famous quiche this morning.” 

“Good for her,” Crowley grumbled. 

“Now, now.” Aziraphale finished untangling Crowley’s hair with his fingers and ran them through it unopposed. “Are you feeling better today, my love?” 

Was he? The empty space in his chest seemed to have abated with rest and he didn’t feel as if he were teetering on the edge of insecurity anymore. He nodded. “Yeah. I was...overwhelmed yesterday, I think.” 

“Easy enough thing to happen in a city like this.” Aziraphale kissed his temple. “We’ll take it easy today and see how we fare, hm? New day and all that.” 

Eventually, Aziraphale managed to convince him to leave the bed. They bathed together, changing into clean clothes before they headed downstairs for breakfast. Mrs. Levy greeted them with a smile, serving up pieces of quiche with toast, homemade jam, coffee, and tea. 

It was good. Crowley could see why her quiche was famous. He ate most of his meal, appetite better than it had been after his meltdown the previous night. They hadn’t ever gotten back to eating their leftovers. Mrs. Levy engaged in polite conversation until she excused herself to do the dishes, leaving Crowley and Aziraphale with their drinks. 

“There’s a bookshop I like to check in on,” Aziraphale said. “If we could add that to our agenda today I’d be grateful.” 

“‘Course, angel.” Crowley half-smiled at him. “I know better than to keep you from your books.” 

Aziraphale did a content little wiggle as Crowley huffed a laugh. 

Outside it smelled like fresh rain, the pavement wet with it. The clouds rolled by above, white and fluffy by the time they started their adventure. 

“It seems the weather favors us!” Aziraphale looped an arm through Crowley’s. 

“Seems so.” Crowley glanced around at a living, breathing London. There was so much activity and it was  _ everywhere _ , people running to and fro, vendors shouting about their wares. It was so very different from what he was used to at either his or Aziraphale’s estates. 

They strolled instead of taking a carriage, Aziraphale insisting a walk would do them both good. Crowley had to agree, especially since it gave him a better view and understanding of the city. His eyes followed interesting characters and his ears caught passing conversations. There was an energy in the air that made the hairs on his arms stand on end, something very bright and vibrant. 

They stopped at a number of shops, Crowley happy to go along with Aziraphale’s interested browsing. They glanced through a gallery selling paintings of London and the lives lived within it. Crowley noticed one of the park that they’d been in the previous night. The painting looked to have been done mid-day, the sun shining on the creek, catching the golden-brown fall foliage. What he liked most about it was the fact there were no people. It was just a nature scene with grass and winding paths. 

“Do you like that one?” Aziraphale asked, coming to stand beside Crowley. 

Crowley nodded. “I do.” 

“Should we get it?” 

“Oh, I…” Crowley hesitated. “I’m sure it costs a lot.” 

Aziraphale shot him a smile. “Perhaps. But if it brings you joy…” 

Crowley ducked his head. Even this far into it, Aziraphale was still willing to buy him gifts. It made his inner Omega preen. He was worthy of gifts, worthy of his Alpha. “Yes, please.” 

Aziraphale’s smile brightened as he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s cheek and waltzed off to talk with the gallery owner. He finalized the purchase and led Crowley out of the shop with the promise that the painting would be delivered to them in a couple of weeks. 

They walked down a main thoroughfare and Crowley stole glances at Aziraphale, taking in the pleased curve of his lips and relaxed face. He was happy, and the Alpha’s happiness soothed some of the residual angst that had followed him into the new day. 

The bookshop they stopped at looked more like someone’s home from the front, but when they stepped inside it was definitely laid out for selling. There was one shelf after another of books, all clustered together. Sometimes the books were piled on the floor. The place was bursting with literature and Crowley wasn’t surprised that it was one of Aziraphale’s favorite places to come.

Aziraphale let go of his arm and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re welcome to browse, I might be a bit.” 

“Right. ‘Course.” 

Aziraphale disappeared down an aisle and Crowley decided not to follow him, strolling through the stacks on his own. They reminded him of the book of poetry he had yet to hand over to Aziraphale, hiding in a drawer beneath his clothing. Once Aziraphale had returned home and finished his rut, Crowley had second thoughts about giving him the tome. It seemed lackluster, less than, unworthy of Aziraphale. 

It was like him, he thought, then frowned. Lackluster, less than, unworthy. 

The uncomfortable tension from the previous night returned and suddenly the bookshop was too stifling. He tried to find Aziraphale but his scent was overpowered by the smell of old books and must, so he stepped outside instead. Aziraphale would find him. 

The air outside was good for clearing his head as he walked to the side of the building and leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing, and only opened them when he heard someone approach. 

It was two someones, he realized. The first was a small Omega, fully grown but petite. She lifted her lips in a toothy grin that was out for blood. Behind her stood a taller, gaunt fellow. He was pale with dirty blonde hair that stuck to his forehead and he wore grubby clothes. She smelled like tangy apple cider. The one behind her smelled like old leather and oil. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone, huh?” Petite asked, hands shoved in the pockets of her trousers. Crowley was certain that she was indeed a she, but she was dressed in loose men’s clothes. Her black hair was cut short but she was wearing some sort of make-up that made her eyes dark. 

Crowley furrowed his brow. “I’m hardly alone.” 

“Look pretty alone to me there, noble boy,” Gaunt said with a scoff. “You’re a right flash bastard, ain’t ya?” 

Crowley pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning against. “Can I help you?” 

“Can you help us?” Petite laughed and glanced at Gaunt. “Hear that, Hastur? He wants to help us. What, you think we need a handout? A country noble come to town to do good for us poor folk?” Petite scoffed. 

“You’re both awfully stuck on the whole noble thing,” Crowley pointed out, wrinkling his nose. 

“How about this,” Petite began as she stopped just short of Crowley. “You hand over your money and we let you go on your way. Easy.” 

Crowley actually laughed at that. “Weren’t you just disparaging the thought of handouts?” 

Petite scowled. “That’s not the point.” 

“Yeah, what they said.” Hastur chipped in, crossing his arms over his chest. Crowley looked between them, then glanced around, wondering if it were some sort of joke. Were they putting him on? 

“Well, if you’ll excuse me.” Crowley tried to walk by them but Petite grabbed his arm. 

“Beez,” Hastur warned, but Beez did not let go. Instead, she - they? - yanked him to a stop. Crowley pulled his arm out of their grasp and then was shoved backward. 

“Hey!” He snapped, lips curling in a snarl. He looked between the two, Beez and Hastur, and then saw something on their faces that confused him. The next thing Crowley knew he was falling in the dirt, Beez wrestling with him. Panic set in and he flailed in response, trying to buck them off, kicking out a foot and catching Hastur in the shin when he got too close. 

When he ended up pinned on his stomach he was ready to call for help when he took a deep breath and realized something: Beez’s scent wasn’t aggressive, it wasn’t angry. It was elated. They were enjoying it. 

“Do you want my money?” Crowley asked. 

“No.” Beez huffed, and then Crowley wrestled them to the ground. Beez growled and bared their teeth and squirmed, then one of Hastur’s arms came around Crowley’s chest and dragged him off. He tussled with Hastur then, heard Beez whoop in excitement, and before he knew it, he was back on the cobblestones and in the grime, grinning, surrounded by the scent of two other happy Omegas who apparently wanted to wrestle. 

Society was strange outside of his limited circles. 

A shrill whistle cut through their fun as Hastur and Beez immediately scrambled off of him. All three of them sat there on the ground and gazed up at a uniformed officer, an Alpha, who rolled his eyes. 

“Y’all are going to cause a stir if you keep playing like that out here,” he said. His scent was heavy with nutmeg and it soothed something inside of Crowley. “Take it elsewhere. Take it to the park, at least. Where’s your pack Alpha, anyway?” 

“He’s right here,” a gruff voice came from somewhere behind the officer. Appearing soon after was a dark skinned man with golden eyes who looked fondly exasperated. “Hastur, Beez, what tha fuck ya doin’?” 

“Wrestling,” Beez shrugged. 

“Wrestling,” Hastur agreed, even as he stood and approached the Alpha. Crowley watched as Hastur stepped into the Alpha’s arms and nuzzled him. Beez remained on the ground, scowling. 

“I’ll leave it to you, then,” the officer said. “Have a good day folks, and try to keep the rough housing off the streets.” He left, and Crowley slowly climbed to his feet. His knee ached, and when he glanced down he realized he’d ripped his trousers. There was a little bit of blood on them from a scrape. 

“You alright?” The Alpha asked, holding Hastur’s hand, their fingers laced together. 

“He’s  _ fine _ ,” Beez insisted as they stood up and brushed off their clothes. “Jesus, Ligur. We were just playing.” 

“Knowing you both….” Ligur just shook his head and did a once-over of Crowley. 

“I’m fine, really,” Crowley offered up a little smile. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale appeared from around the corner. “Oh goodness, what happened?” Aziraphale was at his side in an instant, greeting him with a nuzzle and a growl. 

A rumbling laugh came from Ligur. “Good. Was worried I was gonna have to add another member to my pack.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Beez grumbled. “No more strays.” 

“Says the one picking fights with strangers,” Ligur murmured, but tugged Beez into his side. They went willingly and Crowley didn’t miss the way they rubbed their jaw against his sleeve. 

Aziraphale looked at Crowley with concern. 

“I’m fine, angel,” Crowley insisted, leaning in to return the nuzzle. Then he nosed beneath Aziraphale’s jaw and rubbed his cheek against his scent. He was overwhelmed again by cocoa and vanilla and was happy for it. “Just having a little fun.” 

“If that’s all,” Ligur began, “‘Ave a nice day, eh?” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.” Aziraphale offered Ligur a smile. 

“S’Ligur.” He held out a hand and Aziraphale shook it. “Pleasure Mr…?” 

“Aziraphale Fell.” Aziraphale returned the shake. Crowley didn’t miss the tension in Aziraphale’s shoulders, or the careful way Ligur held himself. They were two Alphas not sure quite what the other one wanted. 

“‘Everything good?” Ligur asked, giving Aziraphale a curious look before his eyes darted over to Beez. His arm was still protectively around Hastur’s waist.

“Of course. You have a very excitable pack.” 

Ligur scoffed. “You don’t know the half of it. C’mon, Beez.” 

“It was nice to meet you,” Crowley said in Beez’s direction. Beez shot him a little half-grin. Hastur ignored him, apparently more interested in Ligur. They watched the trio walk away and then Crowley turned and rested his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

“Your trousers are bloodied,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“We were wrestling.” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale kissed his forehead. “And you’re really alright?” 

Crowley took a moment to reflect and then nodded. “Yeah. It was...different. Did you get any books?” 

Aziraphale held up a paper bag. “I did. Shall we go get you cleaned up before we continue our journey?” 

“Certainly.” 

They returned to the bed and breakfast and their room. Aziraphale made him sit on a chair after stripping off his ruined trousers and dabbed at his scraped knee with disinfectant. Crowley growled and grumbled as it stung, only receiving a scolding look from Aziraphale for his trouble. His cuts and scrapes were cleaned and bandaged and he switched into new clothes. 

While he fixed his collar in the mirror, Aziraphale appeared behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. Crowley leaned back into it. 

“We should have Newt and Anathema over again soon,” he said, kissing Crowley’s neck. 

“Hm?” Crowley watched him in the mirror, hands going to Aziraphale’s arms. 

“You like being part of a pack.” 

Crowley blushed. “No.” 

“Yes, I think so. That’s the sort of thing packs do, you know. Wrestle. Play. Less so as adults but, well, there’s nothing wrong with embracing childish fun.” 

“Can you imagine wrestling with Newt?” Crowley smiled and he liked how it looked in the mirror. It made the corners of his eyes wrinkle and his face looked younger for it. 

“I think he’d give you a run for your money, honestly, but Anathema is the one you ought to look out for.” 

“I bet.” Crowley finally closed his eyes and relaxed back further into Aziraphale’s embrace. “I love you,” he whispered. Aziraphale’s arms around his waist tightened a fraction. 

“And I love you, my darling.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Now, we ought to get dinner before we go to the show.” 

Crowley smiled, nodded, and followed Aziraphale’s lead, listening to his mate explain his excitement about the show they were going to that evening. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to chat, hang out, or play Animal Crossing please feel free to reach out to me on [Twitter]() and [Tumblr]().


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley learns a little bit more about Aziraphale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What day is it? When will I return to NYC? Who knows. This is Day 14 of being in Oregon for me and that's weird to think about. It feels like it has been a year and no time at all at this point. We're managing, we're healthy, but it is all disorienting. I hope everyone is doing alright. These are strange times and all we can do is out best to keep our heads above water. 
> 
> I love you all! 
> 
> I also have something special to share, which you will see at the head of the chapter....a heading! You can view the full size pic [HERE](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels/status/1245400114027327488) on my twitter. I commissioned the wonderful [Lima](https://twitter.com/limas_art) and she did a FANTASTIC job. I'm so happy.

The return from London meant a return to life as it had been, and Crowley found he appreciated the routine. There was a certain peace in returning to his nest with his mate every night, then going about their days separately, only to come together again and again. Crowley busied himself with the garden, learned cooking techniques from Madame Tracy and the Sergeant, and made bets with the part-time stable hand about when they would finally get together. 

The stable hand was a kind lad, only slightly younger than Crowley. His name was Jude and he was the son of the family that ran the general store that served their rural area. When he wasn’t working at the shop, he worked for Aziraphale, tending to the horses, entertaining the Them, and being friendly with Crowley. 

All in all, it was nice. Spring came into herself and Crowley grew more and more proud of the garden. The Azaleas bloomed and folks from nearby began to stop in, asking how much it would be to take one of the excess bushes for their own properties. Aziraphale allowed Crowley and the Sergeant to determine pricing, and Crowley showed the Sergeant how to appropriately dig up the plants for transport. 

He had a job, of a sort, and it was good to bring in money and help around the household. It gave him a purpose and made him feel a little less like a kept man. 

As he kept busy, he noticed Aziraphale did, too. They spent fewer evenings together in the plant room reading or in the downstairs sitting room. One night, Crowley retired to bed and laid there for nearly an hour without Aziraphale joining him. With a frown, he slipped out of bed and pulled on a robe, going down the hall to Aziraphale’s office. 

He knocked. 

“Come in,” Aziraphale’s voice beckoned. Crowley opened the door and stepped inside, noticing for the first time just how tired his mate looked. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face was drawn and pensive. “Oh, Crowley.” 

“I was wondering if you were going to come to bed.” Crowley stayed just inside the door, an uneasiness in his stomach holding him back from approaching Aziraphale. 

“Oh, oh dear.” Aziraphale glanced around and finally looked toward the curtained window. “Is it late? I’m afraid I lost track of things.” 

“What were you doing?” 

Aziraphale shut a book in front of him. “Some research. I’m very sorry, my dear, come. We should go to bed.” He stood up from his chair and crossed the distance between them, grasping Crowley’s upper arms as he leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Shall we?” 

“Yeah.” Crowley found Aziraphale’s hand and laced their fingers together, leading him down the hallway and back into their den. He let go only so Aziraphale could get dressed, shedding his own robe and crawling back into bed only in his underwear. He waited, listening as Aziraphale washed up in the bathroom before he finally joined him. 

Crowley tugged Aziraphale close and kissed him. “We haven’t seen much of each other recently.” 

“I know, my dear, I’m sorry.” Aziraphale bumped their noses together and stroked his cheek with his thumb. “I’ve been busy.” 

There was something in Aziraphale’s tone that set off warning bells in Crowley’s head, but he breathed in and shut them off. Aziraphale was just tired. He was busy. That was it. He breathed out and tucked his head under Aziraphale’s chin. 

“Maybe we could spend tomorrow together?” 

“Oh.” Quiet fell as Aziraphale idly ran one of his hands up and down Crowley’s back. “Soon, but not tomorrow. I’m afraid I’ve simply got too much to do.” 

Crowley hid the way his face fell, grateful it was tucked away where Aziraphale couldn’t see. “Of course.” 

“Goodnight, dear.” 

“Night.” Crowley lay stiff in his arms and wondered how Aziraphale didn’t notice. Eventually, Aziraphale’s breathing evened out and Crowley bit his lip and blinked back tears. He was being too clingy, too needy. He knew it. He was being an Omega, desiring his Alpha’s attention. 

He was too much. 

When he thought he could get away with it, he squirmed out of Aziraphale’s embrace and settled on the other side of the bed, curled in on himself. He pulled a pillow to his chest and buried his face in it, forcing himself into an uneasy sleep. 

He woke up to an empty bed and stared at the wall for a while, reluctant to get up. Something was wrong and he didn’t understand it. He wondered if it was all in his head and if he was overreacting.  _ It is your fault _ , a voice in his mind whispered.  _ You’ve put him off _ . 

Crowley reflected back on their trip to London, on the fact they managed to stay all three nights without issue. He thought about how joyful Aziraphale had been, how alive and excited he was to be in the city. While he thought they were both ready to be home, maybe Aziraphale wasn’t. Maybe he wanted a place in the city.

Maybe he realized Crowley wasn’t what he wanted in a mate. 

He lay in bed long after the time he should have been down for breakfast, drifting in and out of a fitful doze before he finally got up. He took longer than he might have freshening up, trying to wash away the redness around his eyes. 

When he sauntered by Aziraphale’s office he considered checking in on him, but kept walking. He couldn’t give in to his desire to cling. He’d always been a clingy child, scolded by his mother for his need to be near the ones he loved. He wished he would have grown out of it, but needing to be close and that need not being met fueled the initial need to be close. 

He found Madame Tracy downstairs and she glanced up from dropping biscuit dough on a cooking sheet and frowned. “Oh, dear one, you look like you didn’t sleep well.” 

Crowley rubbed an eye and shrugged. “What are you making?” 

Her face softened. “Oatmeal biscuits. Would you like to help? I’m making a large batch for the upcoming faire the church is putting on.” 

“Yeah. Just tell me what to do.” She set him to work making another round of dough and he lost himself in the steady rhythm of it, both of them working into the early afternoon. By the time they were finished, they’d made at least five or six dozen cookies and set to wrapping them up in little decorative tins. 

“Do you sell them?” Crowley asked as he tied a bow. 

“Some, yes. Or, well, I add them to the baking tent to raise funds for the church.” She smiled as she, too, finished a bow that looked far peppier than Crowley’s. “And some will be going to a few families I know that like them but won’t be able to afford them.” 

“That’s kind of you.” 

Madame Tracy shrugged. “Aziraphale is a generous Lord and allows me to do as I like with the resources he’s given me.” 

Crowley frowned as he started to tie another bow. 

“Is everything alright?” 

Crowley didn’t want to lie to her. He wondered if, even as a beta, she could smell the shift in his scent. “I don’t know.” 

She reached out and took his hand in one of hers. He looked up in surprise. “You should talk to him, if you feel that something is wrong.” 

“I don’t think he wants to talk to me.” 

Madame Tracy squeezed his hand. “I think sometimes he gets caught up in his own mind and doesn’t want to trouble you. Talk to him.” 

“Maybe.” 

“That’s all I ask. Now, let me show you how to add more loops to your bow.” 

Crowley went to bed that evening once again without Aziraphale. He sniffled into the pillow and tried to find the courage to go talk to him, like Madame Tracy suggested. He could walk into Aziraphale’s office and demand they talk, ask him directly why he’d been avoiding him. Then Aziraphale would insist it was a misunderstanding, tell Crowley he loved him, and then take him to bed. 

Crowley realized with dread they hadn’t been intimate in weeks and his stomach twisted. Was he no longer desirable? And how had he come to miss that sort of attention when before marriage he’d dreaded it? 

He rolled over onto his side of the bed and tried to fight back tears. If he would go talk to Aziraphale they could clear the air. The other shoe would drop and Crowley would finally have his answer. Even if he didn’t like the answer, at least he’d know. 

But fear kept him pinned to the bed and he cried himself to sleep. 

Crowley was despondent as he picked at the weeds in the garden the following afternoon. He pulled up more leaves than roots, sitting on his knees, trying to enjoy the warm sun against his back. 

“Mister Crowley!” 

He nearly jumped out of his skin at Adam’s voice and turned to find the Them watching him, smiles on their faces. 

“Adam.” He nodded in greeting. 

“Are you going to come to the faire tomorrow?” Adam bounced on his heels. “We’ve got our own booth this year.” 

“Oh? And what are you doing?” 

“Putting on theatre! We wrote our very own play and we’re going to be putting on parts of it throughout the day.” 

“I’m a pirate,” Brian said with a grin as he waved his arm around like he had a sword in it. “Y’arrrr.” 

“I’m a detective,” Wensleydale added solemnly. 

“You’re a detective’s  _ sidekick _ ,” Pepper corrected. “I’m the detective.” 

Wensleydale sighed. 

“And how about you Adam?” Crowley smiled for what seemed like the first time all day. The children’s enthusiasm was contagious. 

“I’m going to be a dinosaur.” He bared his teeth and growled. 

“This sounds like it will be quite the production, then.” 

“It will,” Adam confirmed with a nod. “Our parents made us costumes and everything.” 

“So you have to come,” Pepper insisted. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll come. I promise.” 

“Yes!” Adam grinned. “C’mon guys, we should go practice one more time! Bye, Mister Crowley! See you tomorrow.” 

Crowley watched the pups run off and they took their joy with them, leaving him on his knees near the garden wondering if he’d be going to the faire alone. He ran his hand through the dirt, spreading it around, then glowered at what remained of a weed. “I’ll get you later. I’m not through with you.” 

He cleaned up and took tea alone in the sitting room, trying to struggle through another book. It wasn’t the same, reading it on his own. He preferred Aziraphale’s voice, with his hand in his hair, petting him as he read aloud. Crowley shut the book with a snap, took his dishes to the kitchen, and then disappeared upstairs where he buried himself in the nest and tried to suffocate his misery. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale’s voice woke him. Crowley sat up and looked over at the doorway. Aziraphale was backlit. “Ah, good. I was worried you were ill. You hadn’t come down for dinner…” 

Crowley stared at him and the anxiety he’d felt over the past few days slowly boiled into anger.  _ Now _ Aziraphale was worried? Almost two weeks of growing distance and it was somehow Crowley’s fault for not going down to dinner? What was he, at Aziraphale’s beck and call? There only when he was wanted, gone when he wasn’t? 

Tears blurred his eyes as he clenched his fists and took a shaking breath. “No. I hadn’t.” 

“Er.” Aziraphale shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Were you…” 

“No.” 

“Is…” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed, lips pulled into a frown. “I…” 

“You can just say it!” Crowley snapped, rising onto his feet even though he kept a pillow clutched to his chest. He trembled, fear and anger combining into a terrifying concoction that made him want to howl. “Tell me what I’ve done wrong, or tell me you don’t want me, or tell me...tell me how I can be better.” Tears slid down his cheeks. 

“But don’t ignore me. You can’t - I can’t take being  _ ignored _ .” The end of the word caught on a sob as he tried to compose himself. “It isn’t fair.” 

It wasn’t fair. What had he done to deserve being ignored? “How am I supposed to do better when I don’t know what I’ve done wrong?” He asked.

“Oh Crowley, no.” Aziraphale hesitantly stepped toward him, each one measured and giving Crowley a chance to react. He didn’t. He just stood there shaking, tears falling as he clutched the pillow against his chest. “No. I...this is  _ my _ fault.” Aziraphale stopped just short of him and then reached out and touched soft fingertips to Crowley’s cheek, testing the waters, wiping away a few tears. 

“Oh darling, you’re right. I shouldn’t have been distant, but it isn’t because of anything you’ve done. I swear.” 

“Then why?” Crowley sniffled, stubbornly wiping his eyes. 

“That is...well. A lot to unpack.” Aziraphale grimaced and then reached for the pillow, carefully tugging it out of his hands. Crowley let it go and allowed Aziraphale to pull him into an embrace. He’d missed his Alpha’s embraces. He missed getting his scent straight from the source. He pressed his nose up under his jaw and shuddered through another sob. “Shh. I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry, Crowley.” 

Crowley clung to Aziraphale, trying to memorize the warmth of him, how steady he was. He took shaking breaths as he rubbed his cheeks and jaw against Aziraphale’s scent gland, trying to take him all in. 

“We’re approaching the anniversary of my parent’s death,” Aziraphale whispered into his hair, resting his cheek against his head. “And I’m...this. Well. This is the first time I’ve been married during it. I...I normally spend the time by myself, you see. And I thought it would be better for me to keep that tradition. It-it is a lot to process every year and I don’t know how to process it with someone else, truth be told.” 

Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s shoulder, his sobs reduced to sniffles. “M’sorry.” 

“No, no. I’m the one who needs to be sorry. I went about this all the wrong way and we didn’t...we didn’t  _ talk _ about it. I wanted to avoid talking about it. Clearly that was the wrong way to go.” He sighed. “I’ve asked you to share your heart with me and I’ve been reluctant to do the same with certain things and that’s, as you said earlier, not fair.” 

“It isn’t,” Crowley confirmed, finally stepping back to look at Aziraphale. “You told me once, after we were married, that you vowed to protect me and keep me. I made that vow, too, and I can’t live up to it if...if I don’t know.” 

It was Aziraphale’s turn to lean in and press his face into the curve of Crowley’s neck. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought I was somehow protecting you.” His breath was warm against Crowley’s skin. “I didn’t think you’d want...that you’d want me like this.” 

Crowley felt the impact of that statement like a bag of flour to the chest. It was strange to hear his own insecurities echoed back to him and he marveled for a moment at how an Alpha could even have insecurities. He wrapped his arms around him and nuzzled his soft blonde curls. 

“I want all of you,” Crowley mumbled. “Just like I hope you want all of me.” 

“I  _ do _ .” Aziraphale huffed and nuzzled him. “Of course I do. I’m so sorry.” 

“Will you tell me about them?” Crowley asked. “Your parents.” Aziraphale had mentioned a few things about them, but not a lot. Crowley hadn’t prodded, and he wondered if he should have. 

“Yes. I will.” 

“And you’ll come to bed with me tonight?” Crowley swallowed, bracing for the answer. 

“Yes. Tonight, and every night. I won’t hide from you anymore.” Aziraphale lifted his head and nuzzled Crowley’s cheek, brushing a light kiss to it. 

“Good. I don’t want to be away from you anymore.” 

They embraced, their chests pressed together, rising and falling with every breath. Crowley was tired, his head hurting from his earlier bout of crying. Aziraphale’s stomach growled loudly enough to be heard. 

“I suppose we should try some dinner?” Crowley murmured. 

“If you’d like.” Aziraphale pressed his forehead to Crowley’s temple. 

“I would.” 

They took dinner together, sitting close enough for Crowley to tuck his leg behind one of Aziraphale’s, desperate to be touching him. Aziraphale indulged him, seeming as interested in touching as Crowley was. They shared bites of each other’s dinner, and bites turned into soft nuzzles, until the plates were pushed away and Crowley was all but in Aziraphale’s lap. 

“I was a fool,” Aziraphale murmured as he pressed a kiss to Crowley’s forehead. “I’m sorry. I missed you, too.” 

“You were daft,” Crowley agreed. “Stupid. Stupid to think anything could make it so I wouldn’t want you.” 

Madame Tracy broke the moment with a knowing smile as she collected their dishes. “Perhaps the two of you ought to be off, hm?” 

Crowley huffed, face hidden against the side of Aziraphale’s head. 

“She’s right,” Aziraphale whispered. “I believe I promised to go to bed with you.” 

“Then let’s go.” 

Crowley still struggled to fight off the weight of his anxiety as they got ready for bed together. He was tired, his sinuses still aching from his earlier tears. As he washed his face, Aziraphale came up behind him and pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Crowley gazed at him in the mirror, hair clinging to his forehead, water dripping down his chin. Aziraphale made eye contact with him in the mirror and offered up a half-smile. 

“It is okay to be sad,” Crowley murmured, grabbing a towel as he patted his face dry. Then he turned to Aziraphale, hands going to his shoulders as Aziraphale’s arms went around his waist. “Or to feel less than great. You’ve told me that. Why won’t you let that rule apply to yourself?” 

Aziraphale grimaced. “I suppose it still makes me uneasy, being sad.” 

Crowley slid one of his hands to the side of Aziraphale’s face and pulled him in for a kiss, then pressed their foreheads together. “That’s okay, too. Just don’t be uneasy alone.”  _ Don’t leave me alone _ , he wanted to say and wondered if that was selfish. 

“I won’t.” Aziraphale kissed him between the eyes. “Come on. I’d like to go to bed.” 

Crowley led Aziraphale to their nest and bullied him into it first, following soon after. Aziraphale accepted him into his arms, drawing him into another soft kiss. Crowley settled half on top of him, drawn in by his warmth, by the solid weight of him. They kissed for a while, slow, easy passes of lips, the occasional touch of a tongue or a nip of teeth, but nothing more. Crowley was too tired and Aziraphale seemed to be in the same boat. 

They ended up on their sides facing each other, foreheads resting together, sharing breath. Crowley closed his eyes and focused on the warm weight of Aziraphale’s hand against his hip, as well as the way his fingers caressed the bare skin just above the line of his underwear. He had a hand on the side of Aziraphale’s face, fingertips running over the fuzz of his eyebrow, the line of his cheekbone, memorizing him. 

Half dozing, Crowley began to purr. 

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s hand slid up to his chest to feel it, resting flat over his collarbone. “Oh, I dearly missed this sound.” 

Crowley smiled but didn’t bother saying anything. He simply kept purring until he fell asleep. 

He woke curled up against Aziraphale’s side, head tucked against his chest, arm slung over his waist. For good measure it seemed in the night he’d also slung a leg over him, ensuring his mate wouldn’t be able to leave without him knowing. It was rare for him to be the first awake and he peered up to gaze at Aziraphale’s face, slack with sleep, hair mussed up. 

Crowley liked it. He tilted his nose to press it against Aziraphale’s neck and breathed him in. He smelled like warm, sweet chocolate, tinged now with a bite of cinnamon. Aziraphale was his. Closing his eyes, he let his mind drift to their discussion the previous evening, wondering how he might ease the pain of loss that Aziraphale experienced as they neared the anniversary of his parent’s deaths. 

“You’re awake,” Aziraphale mumbled, reaching up to rest a hand against the arm slung over his waist. 

“Mmhm.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s pulse. “How are you?” 

“Hmm.” Aziraphale sighed, Crowley could feel it beneath his arm. “Better with you.” 

“Good.” He lay with his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder for a while, letting the daylight world fade into being. When he was a little more awake he shifted up to sit, gazing down at Aziraphale who peered up at him with soft blue eyes. 

“My mother fell ill when I was seventeen.” Aziraphale shifted to lay his head against Crowley’s thigh. Crowley moved his hand to his hair, petting him. “There was something wrong with her lungs and the treatments failed her. She became frail and passed maybe six months after her diagnosis.” 

Crowley brushed his fingers over Aziraphale’s nose and along his cheek then traced his jaw. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered closed and Crowley lightly traced the line of his closed eyes before he rubbed his thumb against his temple. 

“My father, well. I suppose he died of a broken heart. We never really figured out why he got so sick, but about a year after she passed he was gone.” Crowley traced the downward curve of Aziraphale’s lips. “He loved her so dearly I think he couldn’t imagine a life without her. His sons were adults, perhaps he thought we didn’t need him.” 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley brushed away a few tears that slid from the corners of Aziraphale’s eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

Aziraphale shifted to drape his top half over Crowley’s lap, burying his face in his stomach. Crowley set both hands in his hair, tugging, petting, rubbing his scalp as he gave him time to process. 

“I’m still angry with him,” Aziraphale mumbled into Crowley’s shirt. “That he would leave us like that. We missed her too. Then Gabriel grew into a man stuck on this idea of carrying on the family line and he and I grew apart…” 

Crowley kept his breathing even as he listened to Aziraphale sniffle from where he was hiding. He continued to pet him, touch him, try to do all the things Aziraphale did for him whenever he was upset. It seemed to work as the sniffling died down and Aziraphale’s breathing returned to normal. “I miss them both so much.” 

“I know.” Sometimes it was easy to forget that Aziraphale wasn’t much older than him. He tried to think about what it would be like at twenty-two, nearly twenty-three, to not have either of his parents. They all had their issues, but losing his father would have likely devastated him. His mother, well...that was more complicated. 

“C’mere.” Crowley laid back down and tugged Aziraphale until he was tucked against his chest. Aziraphale went willingly. “Is there anything we could do to make you feel better? Take your mind off of things?” 

Aziraphale shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“What had you been doing?” 

Aziraphale shifted, sighed. “Reading a journal my mother kept. It...helps, sometimes. To read her words, see her handwriting, to touch something she touched.” 

“Would you like to read it to me?” 

Aziraphale glanced up at him. “It is rather dull.” 

Crowley smiled and shook his head. “It wouldn’t be. Not for me. And it is the only way I might get to know her so…” 

That did it, as a small, genuine smile made its way onto Aziraphale’s face. “If you’re sure…” 

“I am.” 

“Then yes. I would like that.” 

Aziraphale slid out of bed and disappeared to retrieve the book, returning soon after. The journal was leather bound, plain, brown, and Aziraphale held it with a reverence he saved for the most valuable pieces of his collection. He settled into bed next to Crowley, scenting him, before he cracked open the book and began to read. 

They spent the morning like that, shifting into various positions as the ones they were in became uncomfortable. By the end, as afternoon approached, Crowley lay half asleep with his head on a pillow in Aziraphale’s lap. Aziraphale held the journal with one hand and pet Crowley’s hair with the other, reading quietly. His mother was a descriptive woman and seemed to jot down anything that caught her eye. Whether it was the colors she saw in the garden, or the way she felt when it snowed, she clearly loved life. 

And she loved her children. Those were the bits where Aziraphale got the most choked up, reading about her observations of them as young men. Teenagers, really, and Aziraphale explained that there were other journals filled with observations from when they were younger. Her written words dripped with fondness for Gabriel’s curiosity and Aziraphale’s love of literature. Crowley wondered if his mother ever thought those things about him, ever wrote the words down on pages for him to read someday. 

He doubted it, but it was a nice thought. 

Aziraphale appeared to be in better spirits by the time they went down for tea. Madame Tracy smiled and joined them briefly. “Did you both plan to stop in at the faire?” 

“Oh shoot.” Crowley jumped up. “I promised the Them I’d go.” He glanced at Aziraphale. “Are you up for it? If not I can just pop out, see them, come back.” 

Aziraphale reached out and took his hand, squeezing it. “I think some fresh air would do me some good. We should go together.” 

They accompanied Madame Tracy and the Sergeant, walking because the church was maybe half a mile away. Crowley kept his arm wound up in Aziraphale’s, leaning in and pointing out flowers and trees as they passed by them. Aziraphale stole kisses when the mood took him, even as they approached the outskirts of the event. 

“Hello gentleman!” Arthur Young apparently had been designated as the greeter. He was Adam’s father, a comfortable looking man with clean cut brown hair and a mustache. “And lady.” He offered Madame Tracy a nod. “You will find games this way, food stuffs that way, and a theatre booth nearest the church.” 

“Thank you.” Aziraphale nodded and they parted ways with Madame Tracy and the Sergeant as they wandered along the booths. The air was crisp, a slight chill reminding them that spring didn’t necessarily mean warm days were ahead. Crowley didn’t mind, especially with Aziraphale next to him, and he tugged him toward the theatre booth. 

As they approached, Crowley couldn’t help his grin. On the stage was Pepper dressed in an oversized trench coat, a hat on her head that threatened to cover her eyes. She had a pipe in her mouth and a small notebook. Beside her stood Wensleydale, dressed similarly, though he wore a badge that clearly said ‘sidekick’. 

They were investigating a dinosaur, Adam dressed in trousers and a shirt that had been stained with something to make them look like the scales and markings. He had gloves with paper claws attached to them and a fabric hood meant to give him a snout. 

He growled. Pepper made a loud sound of consideration. “So you say the pirate is the one who did it, then?” 

“Grrrrarrh!” Adam replied, flailing his arms. 

“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” Crowley asked, leaning into Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale smiled. “This is the most impressive show yet, honestly. A dinosaur. How clever.” 

They watched the performance play through, Brian’s pirate swooping in only to be chased by the dinosaur and the two detectives keen on getting his treasure. The pups finished their show with a bow to cheers from their parents and a few other observers. 

“Mister Crowley! Aziraphale!” Adam bounded over, followed by the rest of the Them. “What did you think?” 

“Quite a show, Adam.” Aziraphale ruffled his hair. “Thank you for inviting us.” 

“Of course!” He grinned. 

“I’m just glad you got the pirate,” Crowley said, glancing over at Brian. Brian huffed and rubbed his cheek. 

“But Adam didn’t have to tackle me  _ quite _ so hard,” he pointed out. 

“You were the one who wanted him to tackle you in the first place.” Wensleydale helpfully pointed out. 

“Well  _ yeah _ because we needed to sell it but…” He shrugged. 

“You’re fine,” Pepper insisted. 

“We’re all getting ice cream!” Adam announced. “And then we’re going to do one more show for the evening crowd.” 

“It sounds like you have quite the day going for you. Good luck with tonight’s performance.” Aziraphale accepted hugs from all of them, Crowley getting high fives, before they all ran off. 

“Well that was something.” Crowley laced his fingers with Aziraphale’s. 

“It was.” Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him. “Come, I think I’d like to try one of the games to see if I can win you a prize.” 

They played a ball toss game, both of them losing, but they received a tin of Madame Tracy’s oatmeal cookies anyway. The rest of the booths were a mix of food stuffs, proceeds primarily going to the Parish, and a few other booths with other sorts of homemade goods. Crowley spotted a white painted mug with angel wings for a handle at a pottery booth and immediately bought it, pushing it into Aziraphale’s hands. “Angel.” 

Aziraphale beamed at him. Not one to be outdone, he ended up purchasing a number of sweets Crowley had been eyeing from the baking booth. With a bag full of their purchases, Aziraphale did a final round of hellos and goodbyes before they walked back home as the sun began to set. 

“How are you?” Crowley asked as they took a detour through the azaleas. Aziraphale made a thoughtful noise and glanced at Crowley from the corner of his eye. 

“Better. I’m glad we went to the faire.” 

Crowley smiled. “Good.” Then he remembered something. “Oh - oh, damn. I have something for you.” 

“What?” 

“Eugh, something I bought while you were away. I...I don’t know. I thought about not giving it to you, but I think I should.” 

“Well now you have to, I’m curious.” 

“Come on, then.” Crowley pulled him into the house and they dropped off the foodstuffs in the kitchen. He then led Aziraphale up to their den. He rummaged around one of the drawers and pulled out the book of William Blake’s poetry. Aziraphale sat at the foot of the bed and waited as Crowley walked back over to him. 

“Here.” He offered Aziraphale the book. “I know it isn’t extremely valuable or anything but when you were on your business trip I went to the bookshop, in the village, and I thought...I saw it and thought of you.” 

Aziraphale took it into gentle hands and brushed his fingers over the ornate cover. He tilted the book a little so it would catch the light, the gilding shimmering. “It is stunning, my love.” 

“Yeah?” Crowley bit his lower lip. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale set it aside and laid his hands on Crowley’s hips. He tugged him between his legs and leaned in, kissing his stomach through his clothes. He rubbed his cheek against it next, eyes closed. “I love you, Crowley.” 

“I love you too, angel.” He smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday!
> 
> Come socially distance with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](http://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale spend some much needed time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another week, another Wednesday. Hello, darlings. I continue to hold my own in Oregon with family as New York is now on "Pause" until 4/29. I'll be spending Easter with my family for the first time in years which is a nice side effect of all of this, but things continue to be strange. 
> 
> Thankfully, I'm still finding time to write. I've just started working on chapter 16! And if I keep up the pace, might have a bonus chapter for all of you before the week is over. We'll see... :) 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter, and know I'm rooting for all of us in this time of pandemic!

They ate dinner together, munched on biscuits, and retired to bed a little early. Aziraphale was insistent that he read some of the poems to Crowley, and Crowley was just happy to have his Alpha look a little brighter. They lay together on the bed, Crowley dressed in only his underwear, Aziraphale in an undershirt and his own underwear. Crowley was sprawled atop him, listening as much as feeling the vibrations in Aziraphale’s chest with every word he read. 

Crowley grew distracted when Aziraphale shifted and his shirt rode up, revealing the soft round of his side. He reached over and dragged his fingers over him, tracing a few visible stretch marks. Aziraphale made a noise and Crowley glanced up at him and then squirmed over to press his lips to the places his fingers had just been. 

“Crowley?” Aziraphale huffed. “You’re not listening.” 

“I am, you can keep reading if you’d like.” Crowley rucked up Aziraphale’s shirt more, nuzzling and kissing his belly. 

“Yet I feel that we’re headed in a different direction.” Crowley heard the book hit the nightstand as Aziraphale relaxed back into the pillows. 

“Mmhm.” He nosed at the hem of Aziraphale’s shirt and looked up, going for imploring. “Take this off?” 

“As you wish.” Aziraphale tugged his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside. 

Crowley kissed and nuzzled his way up Aziraphale’s belly and chest and then caught his lips in a kiss, threading his fingers in his hair. Aziraphale hummed and tilted his head to slot their mouths together, opening his to run his tongue along Crowley’s lower lip. Crowley opened to him, grinding down on the leg he straddled as Aziraphale’s hands ran down his back. 

“I’ve neglected you,” Aziraphale whispered against his lips. 

“You have.” Crowley bumped their noses together. “I thought…” he closed his eyes. “I thought you might have grown tired of me.” 

“Never.” Aziraphale sealed the word with a kiss. “I’m sorry, my love. I shouldn’t have withheld from you for so long.” 

“S’ok-” 

“It isn’t,” Aziraphale interrupted him. Crowley’s eyes opened to meet Aziraphale’s gaze. “It isn’t okay. It was unfair of me, and I hope to make it up to you.” 

Crowley caught Aziraphale’s lower lip between his teeth and nibbled before he indulged in a full kiss. “I thought perhaps you could try letting me lead?” He hadn’t forgotten their conversation at the bed and breakfast in London. 

“Oh.” Aziraphale shivered. “Yes. I think I’m quite open to that.” 

Crowley thought of the way Aziraphale used intimacy to calm him, to soothe his hurts. If he could provide even a fraction of that to Aziraphale he would consider it a victory. He stole another kiss, which turned into something on the edge of filthy when Aziraphale sucked on his tongue and then moved to his lower lip. 

“Mm.” Crowley smiled as he pulled away, searching Aziraphale’s eyes before he pressed their foreheads together again. “I love you.” 

“And I, you, my darling.” Aziraphale’s hands rested against his shoulder blades. Crowley stayed like that for a few moments before he bumped their noses together and then squirmed away from Aziraphale. 

“On your back.” He patted Aziraphale’s ankle and Aziraphale huffed as he complied, settling flat on his back, Crowley kneeling between his legs. Aziraphale bent his legs at the knees, bracketing Crowley in. 

“Like this?” Aziraphale smirked and tilted his head in question. Crowley rolled his eyes and pinched the inside of Aziraphale’s thigh. 

“Just so.” He soothed where he’d pinched with a gentle brush of fingers before he leaned in over Aziraphale’s chest. Crowley started with his collarbone, licking and kissing along it, taking in Aziraphale’s soft sighs and other pleased noises. 

“Your mouth is so very good,” Aziraphale murmured while Crowley nuzzled the curly white hair on his chest and preened. It had taken him quite a while and a lot of practice to grow comfortable using his mouth anywhere and everywhere. At times he still felt a bit clumsy, but Aziraphale didn’t seem to mind. 

He kissed down to one of his nipples and took it in his mouth, lapping at the nub while his fingers came up to pinch the other. Aziraphale squirmed beneath him and a hand dove into his hair, tugging. “Crowley.” 

Crowley merely hummed against his skin, putting teeth to Aziraphale’s nipple very gently. Then he gave it a long suck and pulled off. He switched his position, giving the other the same attention as his fingers pinched the now spit-slick nipple. Aziraphale shoved his hips up but the angle wasn’t quite right to grind against anything and he growled in frustration. 

“Patience. Isn’t that what you always tell me, angel?” Crowley gazed up at him, grinning when he realized Aziraphale was glaring. 

“It is all fine and good when I’m doing it to  _ you _ ,” Aziraphale replied tartly. “This is torture.” 

“Mm. Maybe you’ll think about that next time you’re doing it to me.” Crowley tittered. 

“Doubtful.” Aziraphale gathered Crowley’s hair into his fist and tugged him back up into a sloppy kiss. Crowley indulged him before he carefully pulled away, Aziraphale releasing his hair. 

“You’ll regret those words.” Crowley squirmed back down Aziraphale’s body and leaned in to kiss his belly, tongue tracing stretch marks. Aziraphale flinched and Crowley laid his hands against his hips and squeezed, doubling down on his exploration. “I love you,” he murmured into his skin. “All of you.” 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale whined and when Crowley chanced a glance at him, his eyes were closed, head thrown back into the pillow. 

“I have you. You always have me, let me have you for once.” Crowley nuzzled his belly and then hooked his fingers beneath the band of Aziraphale’s underwear. “Lift your hips.” 

Aziraphale complied and Crowley slid the underwear down and off, tossing it to the floor. With it gone, Aziraphale was laid bare to him, all milky white skin and soft blonde hair. Crowley allowed his eyes to roam over him, taking in every inch, every curve, and taking pride in the way Aziraphale’s cock rested hard against his belly, leaking. 

Crowley dipped in and pressed a wet kiss to the underside of Aziraphale’s cock, then slid his mouth down to the bump that was the beginning of his knot. 

“Shit.” Aziraphale gasped and Crowley shivered, delighted that he’d driven his angel to curse. It was a rare delight. He opened his mouth and tongued at the flesh, steadying Aziraphale’s hips with his hands as he tried to buck into the sensations. Crowley continued, sucking it into his mouth, enjoying the way it grew beneath his attention. 

He then licked up to the head and, with a wrinkled nose, lapped at the precome on Aziraphale’s stomach. Aziraphale laughed and vibrated with it, making Crowley grin and hide his face against his hip for a moment. 

“You don’t have to taste me if you don’t want to,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“I know.” Crowley peeked up at him. “I  _ want _ to.” To prove it, he lapped up what remained as he stared at Aziraphale’s widening eyes. 

“Oh darling, you’re gorgeous.” 

“Thank you, Alpha.” Crowley took the head of his cock into his mouth and paid it some attention, letting it slide against his lips and tongue, lazily playing with it. Aziraphale let out a long, pleased sigh and then squirmed a little as Crowley took more of him in. 

“Yes, Omega, yes.” Aziraphale reached out and could only brush his fingers against the fringes of Crowley’s hair from his position, but the heat in his voice was enough to drive Crowley forward. He slid his mouth down over him as far as he could go, trying to push his gag reflex, wishing he wouldn’t choke even as his throat constricted around the head of Aziraphale’s cock and forced him to pull back and couch. 

“Alright?” Aziraphale asked, voice breathy. 

“Mm.” Crowley did it again, lasting a moment longer before he choked, spit sliding down his chin as he pulled off and decided to bob his head over what he could get comfortably in his mouth. The rest he stroked with a tight fist as Aziraphale’s hips tipped up into it. 

When he could tell Aziraphale was just on the edge he pulled off completely and sat back on his knees, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Aziraphale looked absolutely scandalized, mouth slack, eyes wide again. “Y-you’re stopping?” 

“Oh, ye of little faith.” Crowley leaned in over him and kissed him. Aziraphale eagerly met him there with insistent presses of tongue and the flash of teeth. 

“Would you have me?” Aziraphale asked, breathless. Crowley frowned, confused for a moment until he realized what Aziraphale was asking. 

“Do you - do you want that?” Crowley’s own cock strained against his underwear. “I...you’ll have to tell me what to do.” 

“I think I can manage that.” Aziraphale cupped his cheek in his hand and kissed him breathless. “Lube first.” 

“Lube. Right.” Crowley slid off the bed and rummaged around in a drawer until he located the familiar jar. He got back on the bed and considered his mate. “Do you want to be on your back or your knees?” 

Aziraphale gazed up at the ceiling for a moment and looked as if he were doing a few equations in his head. “Knees will likely be easier for both of us this time.” 

“Then get on your knees, angel.” 

“Oh, you’re feisty when you’re topping.” 

“I won’t be topping if you don’t get on your knees.” 

Aziraphale grinned and shifted until he was on hands and knees on the bed, his knees spread. Crowley took a few settling breaths. He could do it, he could give his mate this. His body was clearly on board, mind running through what it might feel like to be buried in Aziraphale, for their bodies to be pressed together in a new way. He settled behind him and reached out to grope his arse, running his hands over the cheeks, squeezing. 

“Mm, Omega.” 

“Alpha,” Crowley breathed as he leaned forward and kissed the pale skin of his arse before biting down and sucking. 

“Oh!” Aziraphale tensed and shifted, but didn’t pull away. “Oh Crowley.” 

Crowley worked on the skin until there was a strong red mark that would be sure to bruise. Possession shivered through him at the realization that as much as he belonged to his Alpha, his Alpha belonged to him. 

“Mine,” Crowley growled. 

“Yours, my love.” 

Crowley spread Aziraphale’s arse cheeks and squeezed them before he reached for the lube. Slicking up a finger he reached out with his clean hand and spread Aziraphale a little again, pressing his finger against him. Aziraphale shuddered, muscles flexing, as Crowley teased him. 

“Is this alright?” He asked. 

“Mmhm. You could even push it in and it would be more alright.” 

Crowley huffed. “Talk about feisty.” 

“Excited is the better term for it.” As if to demonstrate, Aziraphale pushed back against Crowley’s slick finger and the very tip of it pressed in. He pushed in further, fascinated by the heat and tension as his finger slipped in, to the first knuckle. Then he pulled out almost entirely before pressing his whole finger in. 

Aziraphale growled and it was a low, pleased sound that made the hairs on the back of Crowley’s neck stick up. “Keep your finger still for a moment. Let me show you.” 

Crowley obeyed and Aziraphale began to rock himself on it. Crowley watched his finger disappear inside of his mate, captivated by the way Aziraphale took him over and over again. He wiggled his finger, changed the angle, and with a bit of help from Aziraphale drew a noise out of him that was pure pleasure. 

“Yes!” Aziraphale yelped, curving his spine a bit as he pressed back again. “More, love, more.” 

Crowley removed his finger, added more slick, and steadily pressed two in. Aziraphale took to them, sinking back onto both with another soft growl. 

“You like that?” Crowley asked, the slick heat of Aziraphale clenching around his fingers almost too much for him to handle. 

“Very much,” Aziraphale purred. “Now move them a bit - ah! - yes, there.” Another shudder was visible as Aziraphale pressed especially hard against Crowley’s fingers. “You can add a third when you’re comfortable.” 

Crowley did so, and Aziraphale continued to work himself on them until Crowley stilled him with a hand on his hip. He took control then, setting the pace, and watched as Aziraphale melted beneath the attention. Crowley watched as his mate’s fingers curled in the sheets, as he shivered and shuddered in an attempt to stay still. It was beautiful. Aziraphale was beautiful. 

Crowley had just about soaked through his underwear. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes. Whenever you are.” 

Crowley removed his fingers, smeared a bit more slick around Aziraphale, and then slipped off the bed to struggle out of his ruined underwear. He was leaking from his cock and from his rear, his body missing the bit where he was the one who would be doing the penetrating. Yet he couldn’t remember a time he’d been quite this turned on, except perhaps when Aziraphale had first started to show him the joy of sexual intimacy. 

He slicked his cock, groaned, and pressed his forehead to Aziraphale’s lower back for a moment as he focused on not losing it right then and there. Crowley wrapped his fingers around the base and squeezed, shuddering, getting away from the edge. Otherwise he wouldn’t last a minute once he was inside and he didn’t want to be a disappointment. 

“Alright?” Aziraphale asked, voice soft but strained. 

“Yes.” Crowley kissed the skin in front of him and then settled between Aziraphale’s legs, rubbing the wet head of his cock against him. “Oh.” 

“Mmhm.” He could hear the smile in Aziraphale’s tone as he spread his legs a little further. 

“Okay.” Crowley laid one hand against Aziraphale’s lower back while the other guided him against Aziraphale. He stared down and watched as Aziraphale stretched around the head of his cock, accommodating him, and he made a strangled sound as he slipped inside. Crowley waited with just the head inside of Aziraphale, taking deep breaths. 

“Omega,” Aziraphale growled softly, tensing and relaxing, obviously eager. 

“Mmph. One - one second.” He whimpered and then pushed his hips forward, sliding into the tight, clenching heat of Aziraphale’s arse until he was fully seated. His entire body shuddered with it, sparks of almost painful pleasure dancing across his nerves. Crowley whined, a loud, wanton thing, as he pulled out until his head caught on Aziraphale’s rim and then pushed back in. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale moved to meet him, arse fitting so nicely against Crowley’s hips. Once they had a slow rhythm going, Crowley draped himself over Aziraphale’s back, one of his hands finding Aziraphale’s on the bed and resting over it. 

“You feel amazing,” Crowley gasped against the back of his shoulder, snapping his hips in a particularly sharp thrust. “Oh. I’m not going to last, Alpha. I’m not going to. You’re so hot, so tight.” 

“Harder, love, harder,” Aziraphale insisted, nudging back against Crowley’s thrusts. “Go on. You won’t hurt me.”

Crowley wasn’t sure harder was the answer, but he didn’t want to disappoint so he steadied himself, chest plastered against Aziraphale’s back, thighs aching as he fucked him in earnest. He was reduced to incoherent noises made into Aziraphale’s skin, barely able to breathe with the way his body tensed with every wave of pleasure. He couldn’t think, barely registered the nonsense that Aziraphale was gasping out, and then just when he thought he couldn’t handle anything more Aziraphale clenched around him and Crowley shouted. 

His hips stuttered, sharp and hard, his skin slapping lewdly against Aziraphale’s as he spilled inside of him. He dug his teeth into the back of Aziraphale’s shoulder, shuddering through his orgasm, Aziraphale continuing to clench around him. 

“Stay inside of me, love. Keep thrusting,” Aziraphale insisted and Crowley did his best, body running on autopilot, muscles burning. He could hear the slick sound of Aziraphale stroking himself and did his best to keep thrusting, to keep working through the sensitivity. 

Then Aziraphale cried out and tensed around him again, muscles clenching, drawing a weak cry from Crowley who was well beyond spent but still being hit with one wave of pleasure after another. He stilled, softening cock buried inside of Aziraphale as he came beneath him. 

Aziraphale collapsed onto the bed with a groan. Crowley followed, managing to slip out before he lay against Aziraphale’s back, panting against the nape of his neck. His thighs and stomach trembled, arms tapped out. Aziraphale didn’t seem much better beneath him. 

“Okay?” Crowley rasped out, nuzzling the back of his neck before he managed to roll off of Aziraphale and flop onto the bed. Aziraphale laughed. 

“More than, my love.” Aziraphale shifted onto his side and drew Crowley into his arms and into a kiss. It was languid, lazy, just brushes of lips and teases of tongue because they were both still panting. Then Aziraphale’s hand slid down Crowley’s front, fingers wrapping around his oversensitive cock, stroking him a couple times as Crowley whined and twitched. 

“Mmph, Alpha, no more.” Crowley laughed and bit Aziraphale’s lower lip, squirming. Aziraphale nudged him onto his back and let go of him, choosing instead to grind their softening cocks together. Crowley groaned and tilted his head back, Aziraphale kissing his throat. Then Aziraphale relented, settling back down, head on Crowley’s shoulder and an arm slung over his waist. 

“Made a mess,” Crowley murmured, noticing the cum on Aziraphale’s belly, certain there would be a wet spot on the bed. 

“I’ll change the sheets later.” Aziraphale rubbed his cheek against Crowley’s scent gland. “You smell wonderful when we have sex. Cinnamon spice to the extreme.” 

“Oh?” Crowley’s cheek flushed. “I’m glad. You smell like dark chocolate.” 

“Mm.” Aziraphale cuddled closer, continuing to nuzzle. Crowley had to admit, he liked how soft Aziraphale was after sex. They lay together there until Aziraphale began to express discomfort over the mess. They got up and changed out the sheets, then Aziraphale slipped on a robe and insisted on having a bath drawn. 

Crowley washed off with water in a basin while Aziraphale bathed and then set about pulling their nest back together. When he was content, he slipped beneath the blankets and waited, soon joined by Aziraphale who smelled like soap on top of a mix of their scents. 

Crowley snuggled up and tucked his head beneath Aziraphale’s chin. For once, the anxiety that had plagued him appeared to have dried up. His heartbeat was steady, breathing easy, and he closed his eyes. 

He had fallen asleep at some point, waking up sometime in the middle of the night. He snuffled against Aziraphale’s chest and whined as he rolled onto his back and stretched, still half-asleep. Crowley’s body ached, muscles sore. Aziraphale followed his movements, mostly asleep, but seeking Crowley’s warmth as he curled up against him and settled again. Crowley gazed up through blurry eyes at the ceiling, over to the window, then closed his eyes and drifted off again with a smile. 

Crowley woke again the next morning with Aziraphale still in the bed, just sitting up and engaged with a book. He leaned in and nuzzled Aziraphale’s bare thigh, laying a kiss on it. A warm hand immediately came to rest on his head, rubbing his scalp before running through his hair. 

“Good morning,” Aziraphale greeted, voice low and rough. “You were purring in your sleep.” 

“Oh?” Crowley kissed his thigh again and then tilted his head to rub his scent against his skin, humming. “Must be happy. How are you?” 

Aziraphale set aside the book, rubbing a thumb behind Crowley’s ear. “I’m okay. I was thinking this morning, perhaps we could go visit them. My parents. Their graves are at the church nearby.” 

“We could take flowers,” Crowley offered. 

“I’d like that very much.” 

They walked to the church, despite the overcast day. There was a threat of rain but the sun still fought to poke through the clouds, so Crowley hoped they would be okay. He had a bouquet of flowers in one arm, a second one was in Aziraphale’s, and their free hands were joined between them. The walk was mostly quiet, accented by the soft breeze and call of birds. Crowley wondered what the Them were up to, what sort of games they were playing as they tempted the rain. 

The graveyard wasn’t anything out of the ordinary and Crowley wasn’t sure why he thought it would be. Perhaps because for Aziraphale, it probably was. It was where his parents had been laid to rest and he was led to a pair of gravestones beside each other. On them, Aziraphale’s parent’s names were stark. It seemed whoever cared for the graveyard cleaned the stone from time to time. 

Crowley bent down and set his bouquet on Aziraphale’s father’s grave: Elijah Clayton Fell, a lovely name. He stood and glanced at Aziraphale who had knelt in front of his mother’s grave and laid the flowers in front of the stone. Rebekah Elizabeth “Liza” Fell’s gravestone stood quiet and still as Aziraphale, her son, remained on his knees. Crowley didn’t dare break the quiet. He merely touched Aziraphale’s shoulder and squeezed, ready to stay with him however long he needed. 

It was about ten minutes later that Aziraphale raised his bowed head and stood, brushing off the knees of his trousers. He then pulled Crowley into a hug, which Crowley returned. 

“She would have loved you,” Aziraphale murmured, sighing as he buried his face in Crowley’s shoulder. “She would have taken you as her own.” 

“I believe it.” Crowley pet the back of Aziraphale’s head, squeezing him around the waist with his other arm. Silence fell and Crowley thought it was appropriate as they stood there in a sacred moment, hearts full and hurting at the same time. Crowley’s heart ached for Aziraphale, while Aziraphale’s heart likely ached for the family he’d lost too soon. 

Another breeze rolled by, the leaves in the trees rustling beneath its influence. “I love you,” Crowley whispered into Aziraphale’s ear. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” 

Aziraphale let out a laugh that was half a sob as he squeezed Crowley tightly and then released him, stepping away. “I think…” He started, swallowed, then wiped his eyes. “I think Madame Tracy was planning on baking a cake tonight. It should be lovely.” 

“Is there anything else you’d like tonight?” Crowley asked as he sought out Aziraphale’s hand and laced their fingers together. 

“You, by my side.” Aziraphale gave him a watery smile. 

“Easy enough.” Crowley tugged him close so that their shoulders bumped as they started to meander back to the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday, even during the apocalypse. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](http://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/) in-between. I'm friendly and love to chat, and am currently obsessed with Animal Crossing.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bonus chapter, because despite having a productive day I'm finding myself a little morose. I spent the evening with my sister-in-law who was good company, but who works at a hospital (in the lab, she's thankfully not a front line worker) and we ended up discussing our thoughts on the length of this crisis. I don't think I'm going to realistically get back to NYC until Mid-May now (I had originally assumed, when I came out here, I'd be heading back sometime next week), and that's such a strange thought. I miss my apartment, my home, my house plants, and my old routines. I'm grateful that I'm otherwise okay, and I'm trying to pay it forward, but...some nights it is hard not to be sad about this disruption of life as we knew it. 
> 
> So if you're out there, struggling, or even if you're doing okay, here's a little gift from me to you. I know I can't do a lot, but at least I can share a story. I hope it makes a difference.

“Special delivery!” Anathema announced as she walked into the front room, holding a wooden box with holes drilled into it. Crowley and Aziraphale glanced up from their position in the lounge where they’d been reading and talking. 

“Anathema, I wasn’t expecting you.” Aziraphale slipped out from Crowley’s hold and stood, smiling. 

“Yeah, well.” Anathema set the wooden box down on the floor and Crowley heard an unhappy, growling meow. “I didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind. Once this one’s kittens were weaned she became a hellion herself. I’m about to go mad between the kittens and her.” 

“The cat.” Crowley stood and wandered over to kneel by the box. He lifted the lid and was met with a fluffed up, hissing tabby with bright yellow eyes. He closed the lid and looked up at Anathema. 

“Not to worry, we’ve brought you a care kit to get started.” Newt walked in holding a bag likely carrying the aforementioned care kit. “Food to get you started, a few baubles for toys, a box lid and some sand so she has a place to go to the bathroom.” 

“She has a clean bill of health according to the vet, and is possibly possessed by a demon.” Anathema shrugged. “I’d suggest keeping her contained to a room until she’s calmed down.” 

“Right.” Crowley was so focused on the unhappy sounds from inside the box that he was only half-listening, hoping Aziraphale would remember everything. 

“Have a name for her yet?” Newt asked. 

“Not yet. I think she may need to earn a name.” Crowley peeked in once more and the cat stared at him, ears back. 

“Damien. That’s a good name for a demon, right?” Anathema snorted and it turned into a laugh when Newt huffed and shoved her gently in reprimand. 

“That’s not a name for a proper lady,” Crowley insisted. “We’ll figure something out.” He closed the lid and hoisted the box. “Aziraphale, which room?” 

“Ask Madame Tracy, she’ll likely have the best advice.” 

Crowley did, and he was directed to the bedroom he first occupied. 

“Honestly,” Madame Tracy began, “this is likely the best place to keep her. She won’t be able to get out through the windows but they’ve got nice ledges for her to sit on. She can hide under the bed, or the dresser if she likes, but there aren’t any little nooks or crannies she could get stuck in.” 

Crowley set the box down. “Have you had a cat before?” 

“No, only the outdoor sort. I kept them fed in exchange for hunting mice. I’ll be glad to have one indoors once she’s earned the right to wander about, though. Hopefully she’ll be a good mouser.” 

“Hopefully.” Crowley stood up. “I suppose I ought to go get the bag of supplies from Newt.” 

“I’ll stay with her, love, so she doesn’t feel alone.” Madame Tracy sat on the foot of the bed. Crowley ducked his head and smiled as he scampered out of the room and down the stairs to find Aziraphale and Anathema talking. 

“Everything alright?” Newt asked, perking up when Crowley reappeared. 

“Madame Tracy is keeping an eye on the cat. I thought I ought to come back and get the supplies.” He motioned to the bag and Newt handed it over. 

“Good luck.” Newt offered him a lopsided smile. 

“Anathema and Newt are going to stay for dinner,” Aziraphale said as he broke away from his conversation and laid a hand on Crowley’s back, leaning in to nuzzle his cheek. 

“Excellent. I’ll get everything set up and try to be back down soon.” He stole a kiss before he returned to the room, Madame Tracy glancing up. 

“You have everything you need?” 

Crowley shrugged. “I think so?” 

“Well, don’t hesitate to let me know if I can be of any help.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime, dear.” She left the room and Crowley shut the door behind her before he set the bag on the ground. He pulled out the box lid which had edges about three inches high. Dropping it into a corner, he took out the bag of sand and poured it in until there was enough of a layer for her to do her business. 

“You use this, right?” He asked toward the box where his new cat sat. “As the loo?” The bag of sand was set on the top of the dresser as he continued to dig through the bag. “Huh. No food bowls or anything, guess I’ll have to ask Madame Tracy for those. I don’t imagine you’d like to go hungry.” 

Crowley set the bag on top of the dresser along with the sand and then carefully approached the box. “I’m going to open this and let you out now, if you’d like.” He lifted the lid and it joined the rest of the stuff on the top of the dresser. Then he stepped away and perched on the foot of the bed. 

Nothing happened for a while, until a pair of yellow eyes peeked over the edge of the box. Her ears were still pinned back, tail fluffed up in an attempt to look big. 

“Yes, I see you. Would you rather I not?” 

She growled. Crowley huffed. “Yes, yes, I get it. You’re very tough. How about this, you figure out the room while I go and track down a water bowl and food dish, hm?” 

Slowly he rose from the foot of the bed, the cat ducking back down into the box. “I’ll be back, I promise.” 

He slipped from the room and tracked down Madame Tracy, acquiring two lovely little bowls, one of which he filled with water. When he returned to the room he glanced over and found the box empty. “I see you’ve left the box, then. I’m just going to leave your water here, alright?” 

Crowley set it down against the wall and put the empty food bowl beside it. “I think I’ll feed you later once you’ve had a chance to settle.” He glanced around the room, trying to catch any sign of her. What he spotted was the tip of a flicking tail sticking out from under the dresser. “Right.” 

Walking over to the box he turned it on its side and pushed it against the wall, too. “One moment.” He left and went to his den, digging through the dirty laundry. He found an undershirt and pressed it to his nose. It smelled like him, and a little bit like Aziraphale. Returning to the cat’s room he tucked the shirt into the box. 

“There, you have a bed now. I’ll get you a proper sort of bed if you want once you’re a bit more sociable, yeah?” Of course the cat didn’t answer. “You just...figure things out and I’ll be back later to feed you.” 

He backed out of the room, took a deep breath once the door was shut, and then went down to see Aziraphale and their guests. 

The early days of cat ownership were spent leaving her alone, for the most part. He took her food in the morning and evening, and by the third day she finally started eating it. Crowley rarely saw her, since she tended to hide whenever he came into the room, but as long as she was eating, drinking, and using the bathroom, he was happy. 

There were accidents, too. She liked to pee in corners and he would spend time every day cleaning it up. Day after day his routine was the same: feed, clean, leave, return, feed, clean. When he wasn’t seeing to her needs he tended to the garden and to Aziraphale. He played with the Them who were insistent on wanting to see the cat, and he talked with Jude the stable hand. 

“You know, you should let her be an outdoor cat. I bet she’d do a good job mousing here in the stables.” Jude was in the process of brushing out one of the horses while Crowley patted the nose of a mare who was friendly to him. 

“I want her to be inside with me,” Crowley insisted, smiling when the mare nosed him and snorted. He rubbed her between the eyes and pulled a piece of carrot out of his pocket for her. “People keep indoor cats these days.” 

“Yeah. Better off getting a kitten for that, though. She’s feral, she was born in the wild, made for it.” 

Crowley frowned. “She seems to be adapting well enough. Animals can change, learn, adapt.” 

Jude looked over with raised eyebrows. “Whatever you say.” 

When Crowley checked in on his feline friend that evening he nearly jumped with joy. For once he’d caught her right before she realized he was there, and she’d been sleeping in the box with his shirt. The moment he entered the room she was up and under the dresser again, but Crowley counted it a victory. 

“Has she earned a name yet?” Aziraphale asked one evening, about two weeks after taking in the cat. Crowley was naked and had been thoroughly seen to, currently on his back, still reeling. Aziraphale sounded smug as he ran his hand up and down Crowley’s front, from his chest to his stomach and back up again. 

“Mm. No.” Crowley tilted his head to watch Aziraphale through half lidded eyes. “But she’s sleeping in the box with my shirt. She doesn’t even hide every time I go in there now, and she’s been using the sand to do her business.” 

“That’s progress.” Aziraphale leaned in and kissed Crowley’s shoulder, then pressed kisses up along the side of his neck, biting down gently. Crowley groaned and Aziraphale spread his fingers out over Crowley’s stomach, pinning him ever-so-gently. 

“Yes.” Crowley allowed his eyes to slide closed and they remained that way even as Aziraphale drew him into a kiss. 

Crowley’s next round of interventions involved sitting closer and closer to the box where the cat slept. He started with his back to the door and had moved to sit with his back against the foot of the bed. He’d talk to her, watch her ears flicker as she listened, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to pet her. 

“You know,” he began. “You haven’t earned a name yet, mostly because I haven’t actually had a chance to properly look at you. You’re always half hidden in that box.” 

She didn’t respond. She never really did except for the occasional hiss when he overestimated their level of trust. “I’ve started growing catnip. Aziraphale and I went to the market and found some. I’m going to dry it out and see if you like it as much as I’ve been told you will.” 

Spring began to tease the edge of summer by the time he made his first real progress with her. He’d taken to dozing on the floor with a pillow in the afternoons, indulging in a nap. If you can’t beat them, join them, and all that. It was during such a nap that he was disturbed by a curious chirping meow and opened his eyes to find his cat had crept out of the box and was now watching him with honey-colored eyes. 

He recalled them seeming more yellow in the light when he had first seen them, but in the warm afternoon sun peeking through the curtains they were definitely honey. 

“Well hello.” He reached out a hand and laid it flat on the ground. She stepped forward and sniffed it, before she rubbed her cheek against his fingertips. Crowley wanted to cry, joy springing up from the depths of his heart like tulips from a bulb. She made another curious meowing sound and moved away from his hand, prowling around him. 

“I don’t know if you’re investigating, or trying to figure out how to eat me.” 

“Mrow.” 

“Oh, really?” Crowley grinned. “I don’t think I’d be a particularly good meal.” 

“Mrrrew.” 

“Exactly.” 

She slipped behind him, nosed at the small of his back, and then continued her prowl until she reached his head. She rubbed her face against his hair. Crowley reached for her, but that was the wrong move. She bolted, back into her box, and stared at him from the shadows within. 

“Sorry, love.” He offered her an apologetic smile. “I moved too quickly, then. It is alright. We’ll take it slowly.” Crowley sat up and watched her settle into his shirt in the box. 

“What would you say if I named you Honey, hm?” He tilted his head as she watched him with her honey gold eyes. 

“Mrrow.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mmmr.” 

“Alright then. Honey it is.” 

“Honey?” Aziraphale asked later, Crowley sitting as his feet in the plant room as Aziraphale brushed his hair. The brush left Crowley’s scalp warm and tingly, Aziraphale’s hands often following the bristles to run through his hair. 

“Mmhm. She has the prettiest eyes when the sun hits them.” 

Aziraphale made a thoughtful noise as he set aside the brush and began to gather up bits of Crowley’s hair in his hands, beginning to French braid it. Crowley closed his eyes and started to purr. 

“It sounds like you’ve made quite a bit of progress with her.” 

“Mmhm.” Crowley leaned his head back into Aziraphale’s hands, letting him do whatever he pleased. He loved it when his hair was braided, or when Aziraphale decided to fuss with it in other ways. There was something in the act of grooming that left him a mess at Aziraphale’s feet. “Slow and steady.” 

“Perhaps you ought to bring her a gift.” 

“What?” Crowley peered up at him. 

“Worked with you,” Aziraphale teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of Crowley’s head before he returned to braiding. Crowley tilted his head forward.

“I’m not courting her.” 

“Aren’t you? Think of it as trying to comfort a new pack member. That’s what she’ll end up being, anyway.” 

“A pack member?” Crowley snorted. “She’s a cat.” 

“Mm. And part of the family.” Aziraphale plucked a red ribbon off of a side table and tied off the end of Crowley’s braid. “Perhaps it is time to try and dry some of that catnip, see if she likes it.” 

“Maybe you’re right.” Crowley tilted his head back and rested it in Aziraphale’s lap, studying him. “Thank you for letting me have her.” 

Aziraphale smiled, eyes wrinkling in the corners. “Of course. This is your home, Crowley. You can have whatever pets you’d like.” 

“Well, I did see a gentleman saying emu make nice pets…” 

“Except  _ that _ . They’re terrors.” 

The last week of June was plagued by never ending rainfall, but Crowley had received orders for plants he’d been propagating and pulling up to sell. So he and Shadwell, dressed in their hardiest boots and jackets, set to work in the garden so items would be ready for pick-up. 

“Need help?” Jude, the stable hand, asked as he approached. His dark brown, wavy hair was plastered to his forehead. 

“Sure, give the Sergeant here a break. He can go check and see if we’ll get snacks soon.” 

“Aye. I’ll talk to that damned woman about our tea.” Shadwell grumbled as he stomped through mud back toward the estate. 

Jude fell in alongside Crowley and began to help him dig and pull. 

“How’re things with the cat?” Jude asked over the pounding rain. Crowley snorted. 

“She’s fine. She lets me pet her, but isn’t a fan of being picked up.” 

“I’m telling you, it would be less trouble if you just let her live up to her nature.” 

“Cats can live indoors.” Crowley was certain of it, Anathema had assured him. She had kept one of Honey’s kittens and the little one was flourishing in the house. 

Jude wiped water from his eyes on his sleeve before he jammed the shovel into the ground. “Nothing wrong with giving in to nature.” 

Crowley faltered and stopped what he was doing to look at Jude. “What?” 

“The cat has a nature, like you have a nature, or me. There’s an order to things, you know.” 

Something prickled against the back of Crowley’s neck as he straightened up and stared at Jude through the rain. “Are you trying to tell me something?” 

Jude frowned. “No.” 

“If you’ve got something to say, why don’t you say it?” 

“You’re an Omega. A married Omega. You know you’re just going to get Lord Aziraphale in trouble by continuing on with….with this charade.” 

“What?” Dread settled in Crowley’s chest, as heavy as packed dirt. 

“His brother knows he hasn’t bonded you yet.” Jude frowned right back. “Lord Gabriel…” Now Jude looked nervous. “Look, Lord Gabriel asks me things, alright? And I’ve had to tell him, and I like you Crowley, and I don’t -” 

Crowley had Jude on the ground and was snarling before he even realized what he was doing. Jude’s eyes were wide for a moment, before his face melted into a returned snarl. Jude smelled like bitter licorice and he started to fight back. Crowley grabbed for his arms, tried to keep him pinned, but Jude got the better of him. He shoved him off and scrambled back through the mud, but Crowley regained his balance and pounced. 

Crowley got Jude onto his stomach and was shoving him into the dirt when Jude shoved his whole body back and knocked him off. 

“I’m only telling you because I’m trying to help you!” Jude shouted. “At first I wanted the money but - but then I just wanted to make sure Gabriel was hearing things that wouldn’t hurt you!” 

Crowley growled, rage curling and burning through him. He’d trusted Jude, had enjoyed his company, but he’d been reporting to Gabriel.

“An’ what in the nine hells is goin’ on here?” Shadwell’s hand was on Crowley’s shoulder, helping him stand. 

“You’re  _ dismissed _ , Jude,” Crowley spat. “For good. Go home, tell your parents you’ve lost your job.” 

“Crowley - no!” Jude stared at him from the ground. “I was trying to help.” 

“Get off my property.” 

Shadwell looked between them, confused. 

“Crowley -” 

“Go!” Crowley shouted. “Before I rip your throat out, or let my Alpha do it for me.” 

Jude scrambled up, covered in mud, and took off running. 

“Alright, lad?” Shadwell asked. 

“Tip-top,” Crowley growled. 

“Right then. Let’s get ya inside.” 

Crowley allowed Shadwell to lead him inside, body and mind still buzzing with anger. 

“Crowley?” Alpha. His Alpha was there, warm hands on Crowley’s cold cheeks, the smell of cocoa wrapping around him like a blanket. He nuzzled along Aziraphale’s jaw. “You’re filthy, my dear.” But Aziraphale pulled him closer anyway. “And shaking.” 

“He was tusslin’ with the stablehand.” 

“Jude?” Aziraphale asked. 

“That’s the one.” 

“He’s been reporting to your brother,” Crowley bit back a snarl. 

“He’s been - oh. Well.” Aziraphale looked thoughtful. “That explains a few things, anyway.” He wiped what Crowley presumed to be some mud off of his cheek. “Come, my love, we ought to get you warm and clean, hm?” 

Crowley huffed but nodded, shivering from the cold and wet. Disappointment settled in his gut like silt at the bottom of a river. Jude had been a friend, or at least friendly, and he had been feeding information to Gabriel. He made his way upstairs and into their den while Aziraphale had Madame Tracy begin the process of drawing a bath in the larger washroom. 

“If you want to get out of your wet clothes now, I’ve brought a towel.” Aziraphale held it up and Crowley sighed before he began to shed his wet and muddy clothes. When he was naked, he stepped into the towel and allowed Aziraphale to wrap him up in it. Then Aziraphale wrapped him up in his arms and Crowley was more than happy to nestle against him. 

“What happened to Jude?” Aziraphale asked. 

“I dismissed him.” Crowley grimaced. 

“Good. Though I’m a bit disappointed I didn’t get the chance to. I imagine I may need to speak with his parents.” Aziraphale ran his fingers through some of Crowley’s hair, which had come loose from the ponytail he kept it in.

“What do you think he’s told your brother?” 

Aziraphale shrugged. “Impossible to know exactly. Whatever he’s said, it doesn’t matter.” 

Crowley wasn’t sure about that, but he let Aziraphale lead him to the bathroom where the tub was filled, steam rising from the surface. He dropped the towel and slid in, shuddering as he was surrounded by comforting heat. He started to rub at his skin, getting the bits of mud off of his hands and forearms. 

Aziraphale stripped and joined him, squeezing behind him and pulling him to his chest. He ran his hands over Crowley’s stomach beneath the water and Crowley momentarily gave up on getting mud out from under his fingernails. He preferred to lean back against Aziraphale’s chest, eyes shut. 

“May I wash you?” Aziraphale asked, nosing at his temple before he dropped a kiss there. 

“Alpha, you can do whatever you want with me.” Crowley smiled, eyes still closed. 

“Oh, can I now? That’s a dangerous offer to make.” Aziraphale’s lips touched the side of his neck, tongue darting out, hot and lovely against his skin. “Are you alright?” 

Crowley sighed. “I’m disappointed. I liked Jude.” 

“He is not a bad pup,” Aziraphale murmured. “I just imagine telling my brother no was harder than I’d like it to have been. I would have hoped he could have come to me, told me what was happening.” 

“I don’t think he was scared of your brother, Aziraphale.” Crowley opened his eyes and peered up at the ceiling. “I think he agrees with him.” 

“What?” 

“Gabriel...he believes in roles, in being defined by what we are, what our secondary genders are. He looks at me and sees an Omega not living out his purpose, and he’s not the only one who believes that.” Crowley turned his head to catch Aziraphale’s eye. “Would you claim me?” 

Aziraphale held his lips in a thin line, not looking at Crowley. “Yes. But not because of my brother.” 

“And if I never let you?” 

Aziraphale finally looked at him, conflict written across his face. “Crowley -” 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley shifted, the water sloshing as he straddled Aziraphale’s hips. He laid a hand against the back of Aziraphale’s neck and rubbed his fingers against the short, wet hair there. Aziraphale studied him. 

“I would be, perhaps, a bit sad.” Aziraphale lifted a hand and ran his fingers over the little bump of nerves on Crowley’s neck. “I do like to imagine what my mark would look like on your neck. When I’m in rut, my sharper canines come in. They would leave a unique imprint, one that tells the world you are unequivocally mine.” 

Crowley’s breath hitched and he shivered from both the words and the touch. 

“But if you didn’t want it, then I would respect your decision. It is…” Aziraphale swallowed. “No. It is difficult to find the words but, you are not  _ mine _ , Crowley. You are mine in a way, as much as you’d like to be, but I recognize that you are also your own person. And whether I bite you or not, you will always be your own person, and I am thankful that you share yourself with me.” 

“I don’t know how I got so lucky, Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered, tears springing up in his eyes, blurring his vision. “But for all the terrible decisions my mother has made, you are somehow the one good thing she’s given me.” Crowley leaned in and kissed him, Aziraphale’s hands coming up immediately to cup his face and tilt it, deepening the kiss. 

Crowley moved to put his arms around Aziraphale’s neck, settling further into his lap. He didn’t mind the way water splashed over the edge, too caught up in the way Aziraphale’s tongue felt against his own. Crowley broke the kiss and pressed their foreheads together, panting. 

“I love you,” he breathed, nuzzling their noses together. 

Aziraphale pressed a smiling kiss to Crowley’s cheek. “I love you, too.” His hands slid down under the water, running down Crowley’s sides before settling on his hips. Crowley rocked forward a bit, leaning his head down against Aziraphale’s shoulder as he rutted his hardening cock against his belly. 

“You’re suddenly hot and bothered, hm?” Aziraphale chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of Crowley’s head. 

“I might not be ready for a claim but I like thinking about it.” Crowley nibbled at Aziraphale’s earlobe, nuzzling up under his ear and nipping the skin there. “I was told it is supposed to feel like I’m part of a whole.” 

Aziraphale tsked, a hand sliding down to stroke Crowley. “You’re already whole,” he whispered into his ear. “With or without me, you are a whole person, and no bite, no claim, no marriage, will ever change that.” 

Crowley shoved his hips forward into Aziraphale’s hand, whining. “Aziraphale.” 

“I know.” Aziraphale continued to stroke him with one hand as dripping wet fingers on the other guided Crowley back into a kiss. “There are a lot of lies we’re told, growing up, but we’re all whole people Crowley. It doesn’t make relationships insignificant, because you are  _ very _ significant…” He indulged in another kiss. “But I love you as a whole person.” 

Crowley huffed against Aziraphale’s lips and then pressed into a hard kiss, biting his lower lip. “Alpha.” 

“Omega.” Aziraphale growled. “Crowley. My love.” 

“Take me to bed,” Crowley gasped out. “Please.” 

They were a tumble of wet bodies, slipping on the floor as they hastily grabbed towels and fled for their den. Still damp, Crowley was pressed into the bed and kissed senseless, his mind floating as he scraped his fingernails through Aziraphale’s hair. Aziraphale marked his throat, his chest, he kissed all the way down Crowley’s body until he had to pause to grab the jar of lube. 

“Alpha,” Crowley whined, thinking about Aziraphale’s words. They were two whole beings, but it still felt wonderful to come together. It felt right. Like they were made for each other, sharing pieces of themselves to make a new whole. 

Crowley was anxious during the preparation, encouraging Aziraphale along with soft whines. Aziraphale huffed against his thigh and pressed an open mouthed kiss to it, leaving a bruise with a press of teeth, and that did it. 

“Alpha, if you don’t fuck me immediately…” 

Aziraphale growled and settled over Crowley, pushing one leg up over his shoulder so he could press into him. It stretched him, but pleasantly. Crowley was used to his Alpha, his husband, and his body welcomed him as Aziraphale slid in entirely and leaned down over him to steal a kiss. 

Crowley held Aziraphale as close as he could, arms around him, a hand buried in his hair as he drew him into one messy kiss after another. Aziraphale rolled his hips and set a steady rhythm, groaning low and hot as they savored the drag of their union. Breathless, Crowley finally gave up on kissing and laid his head back on the pillows, panting. 

“Angel,” Crowley breathed, pushing back into each of Aziraphale’s thrusts. “Hng.” 

“I’ve got you,” Aziraphale murmured against his cheek. “Oh, you feel wonderful darling.” 

With every inward push, Crowley started to feel the knot at the base of Aziraphale’s cock press against him, but not in. He whined and turned his head to bite at whatever skin he could get to. “Please, Alpha.” 

“Mmn.” Aziraphale shuddered in his hold. “What?” 

“Knot me.” 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale growled and gave another shuddering push in before he slid out and scooted back. “Over. Turn over.” His hands grabbed for Crowley’s hips in a frantic attempt to help him. Crowley rolled over and didn’t even get a chance to get up onto his knees on his own before Aziraphale had an arm around his hips and hoisted him up. His front remained pressed to the bed, one of Aziraphale’s hands splayed between his shoulder blades. 

With little resistance, Aziraphale slid back in and Crowley let out a pleased groan as he arched and pushed back into the penetration. Aziraphale thrust twice before Crowley felt his half-swollen knot finally slide inside of him. 

“Love,” Aziraphale whined, pulling out, Crowley’s body barely letting him go before he pressed in again and that was it. Aziraphale continued to rut against his arse as he cried out and spilled inside. Crowley shuddered, fingers curled in the blankets. He was hard and aching, but Aziraphale pulled him onto his side, plastered up against his back. He continued to thrust, Crowley all too aware of the almost uncomfortable fullness of it, but then Aziraphale’s hand was around his cock and he cried out in surprise. 

“Come for me,” Aziraphale insisted into his ear. “Please, Omega. You’re so good, so tight, so full of  _ me. _ ” Aziraphale smelled deep and rich, a growl rumbling in his chest. Crowley thrust into Aziraphale’s hand and then pushed back against his cock which was still buried and pressing inside of him. It took a moment of that back and forth before his vision whited out and he cried out silently, spilling over Aziraphale’s hand. 

He could feel himself flexing around Aziraphale inside of him and as he came down he whimpered. Aziraphale nuzzled his jaw, then his shoulder, and began to pepper kisses along the line of his neck. Crowley’s body buzzed and he slowly recognized the warm press of Aziraphale’s body against his back, and the soothing drag of his hand up and down Crowley’s twitching stomach. 

“Alpha.” Crowley closed his eyes and was lost in a world of chocolate and vanilla, taking in deep breaths as a sense of safety settled over him. 

“Hm.” Aziraphale nuzzled into his hair, his breath a warm huff against his scalp. Crowley sighed and reached back, hauling Aziraphale’s leg up over his hip to better fit their bodies together. Aziraphale chuckled and curled an arm around Crowley’s chest. “Alright?” 

Crowley took a moment, on the edge of sleep, to consider the question. Was he? He thought back to the first time they’d slept like this, when Aziraphale had come between his legs and Crowley wondered what it would be like for them to be exactly as they were now. 

“More than.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday. 
> 
> Come talk to me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/). I swear I'm friendly.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley celebrates Aziraphale's birthday with a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again my dear friends. I'm glad you enjoyed the bonus chapter! Hopefully there will be more of those to come, but at the very least you can rely on me to update every Wednesday. 
> 
> I hope, as I always do, that you're well and surviving. I just got my stimulus payment today, and since I've been lucky to keep my job I'm trying to figure out a way to pay it forward. I'm thinking art commissions might be the ticket, so if anyone is doing commissions feel free to hit me up on tumblr or twitter (linked in the end notes) and at the very least, I'll RT and help promote your work! Anyway. I hope you all are staying safe and well, and I hope this chapter brightens your day. It is 100% fluff (okay, maybe 90% fluff depending on how you look at it) and you might have cavities once it is all said and done. 
> 
> Enjoy.

The early weeks of July brought warm weather with them, and Crowley took to wearing thin shirts and trousers around the house. Sweat gathered on the back of his neck as he dug around a chest full of blankets, making a victorious noise when he withdrew a soft outdoor blanket Madame Tracy had told him about. 

“Love?” Aziraphale asked from the doorway of a room downstairs that acted as a storage space. 

“Mmhm?” Crowley glanced over his shoulder and offered him a smile. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Madame Tracy asked me to find a blanket.” He held it up. “I found it.” 

“Ah.” Aziraphale seemed content with that answer. “I’ve got quite a bit of work to do today, fixing a few books for a client. Are you alright?” 

“Yes. I thought I would go into town, pick up a few things.” 

“Oh? Perhaps I could join you?” 

“No, no. No need.” Crowley stood, holding the blanket to his chest. He walked over and pressed up against Aziraphale, nuzzling along his jaw, smearing his scent onto him along the way. “You work, and we’ll spend some time together tonight.” 

“If you’re sure.” Aziraphale put an arm around Crowley’s waist and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

After shooing him away, Crowley made his way into the kitchen with the blanket. “I found it.” 

“Oh lovely.” Madame Tracy smiled. “I don’t even think the poor dear remembers his own birthday is tomorrow.” 

“Likely not. Though he may be a little suspicious now.” 

“Nonetheless, we shall continue. I have a list here of the things I need from the village to make his favorite dessert.” She handed him a piece of paper with the list written on it. “The Sergeant is getting the carriage ready.” 

“Let me change into something less sweaty, then I can be off.” 

“Lovely.” 

He changed and met Shadwell at the carriage, the blanket stashed away in the kitchen with Madame Tracy. Their first stop was the Device estate, then they would make their way to the village. Crowley watched the countryside roll by, trying to ignore the way his clothes clung to him in the warm humidity. 

They arrived at the Device estate in good time and he slipped out from the carriage and made his way to the door. Anathema greeted him. 

“Shouldn’t someone else be answering the door?” Crowley asked with a smile, stepping inside when she motioned for him to. He caught the soft scent of sun soaked earth as he walked by her. 

“What fun is that?” Anathema asked as she closed it and followed him. They made their way into a front room where Newt was putting something away. 

“Oh, Crowley, just in time.” He hoisted the bag up and walked over, offering it to him. “The telescope, as promised. Just be sure to take care of her, yeah?” 

“Of course. Thank you for letting me borrow it.” 

“You feel confident you’ll be able to use it?” 

“I think so.” Crowley had found a few books on astronomy and looking at the stars. He’d spent an evening with Anathema and Newt doing just that and felt he could teach someone else. He startled when something brushed against his ankles and glanced down to find a small version of Honey staring up at him with the same golden brown eyes. 

“Ah, Squeak.” Crowley smiled when the kitten mewed at him and continued to rub against his legs, arching her back. 

“How is her mother doing?” Anathema asked. 

“Splendidly. She lives upstairs right now, hasn’t wandered downstairs yet, but she’s comfortable enough around me that I usually see her at least once a day.” 

“And Aziraphale?”

“A work in progress.” Crowley shrugged. Honey got nervous around Aziraphale, but considering she barely tolerated Crowley, he wasn’t terribly surprised. 

“Does Aziraphale have any idea what you’re planning?” Anathema inquired as she walked over to Newt. Newt leaned in and nuzzled her, receiving a kiss on his cheek for his trouble. 

“Not yet, I don’t think. I waited as long as I could so he wouldn’t get suspicious, and he happens to be busy with work. Thank you for that, by the way.” 

Anathema grinned. “Well, it just worked out that Newt’s uncle had a few old books he didn’t mind getting repaired. Happy to help. In all the time I’ve known Aziraphale, I have never been able to pull a surprise over on him for his birthday.” 

“The year we were married she tried a surprise party,” Newt chimed in. 

“Aziraphale was too damn nosy and it became a normal party.” Anathema sighed and leaned into Newt’s side. 

“Here’s hoping my surprise works out.” Crowley thanked them and took the telescope out to the carriage, loading it in as they headed toward the village market. It was a familiar enough place now that Crowley didn’t mind going alone. He hopped down from the carriage once it was parked and then shot Shadwell a look. 

“You should go see the florist, get a bouquet.” 

“What good is a bouquet?” Shadwell grumbled. “I got enough flowers back at tha house.” 

“For Madame Tracy,” Crowley replied. Shadwell sat up a little straighter. 

“Get outta ‘ere, ya nosy pup.” 

Crowley snickered. “As you wish, Sergeant.” Crowley stopped by the bakery first. There were raspberry tarts in season that Aziraphale was fond of, so he picked up half a dozen. Next, he managed to track down a bottle of strawberry wine from a local maker. It seemed like an appropriate summer drink. 

When he stepped into the bookshop he was comforted by the smell, approaching the front desk.

“Clovis,” Crowley greeted, having become friendly with the older Alpha who ran the shop. 

“Crowley.” Clovis scratched his scruffy chin and offered him a toothy grin. “I think I’ve got just the thing you were hoping for.” 

“Oh?” Crowley set the basket containing his other goods on the floor and leaned on the counter. 

“Mmhm. One moment.” Clovis disappeared into the back room and when he returned, it was with an old map case in hand. He undid it and pulled rolled up parchment out. Spreading it out over the counter, Crowley was struck by the beauty of it. It was a star map, old and worn, but it still managed to hold onto the dark blue pigments it had been stained with to mimic the night sky. Dotting it were constellations, stars in gilded gold and silver. 

“Clovis.” Crowley touched it with the tips of his fingers, in awe. “Oh, he’s going to love it.” 

“I even talked to the carpenter in town and he thinks he could make a frame, if Lord Fell would like it framed.” 

“Thank you. What do I owe you?” 

With the map stored away and in Crowley’s possession, they haggled on price and finally came to an agreement. Crowley tucked the map case under one arm and held his basket with the other as he got out the door and back onto the street. 

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of a familiar automobile. 

“Funny how we keep running into each other,” Lucifer said, scoffing as he approached. He looked pointedly at Crowley’s neck. “Still on the market, then?” 

Crowley bared his teeth, bit back a choice comment, and turned to walk off. Lucifer followed him. 

“Come on now, Crowley. You know, I saw your mother recently. She lamented the fact you didn’t end up with a real Alpha.” Lucifer laughed. A breeze blew by, bringing his sickly sweet scent to Crowley’s nose. He hated it. It sent an unpleasant chill down his spine and he kept walking, wishing he weren’t so far from the carriage. 

He heard Lucifer’s steps behind him and dropped his basket when his arm was grabbed and he was yanked to a stop. 

“Come on, Omega, why are you ignoring me?” Lucifer growled. “That isn’t polite.” 

Crowley growled right back. “Let me go, Lucifer.” 

“No. Do you think I’m going to let you run away when I’m talking to you?” Lucifer tugged him closer and then reached out to try and grab the map case. “What’s this? Shopping on your failure of a mate’s dime?” 

Crowley, in that moment, thought about Jude. And Gabriel. And the same red hot anger flooded him, searing him, as he snarled and pulled his arm from Lucifer’s grasp. Then he lunged forward, slamming into him. Lucifer stumbled, tried to catch himself, but then fell hard on his ass with a yelp. 

Crowley took a few steps back and clutched the map case to his chest, teeth still bared. “I said let me go,” Crowley growled. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’re not my mate, you’re not my Alpha, and you have no say over anything I do. So if you would kindly  _ fuck off _ that would be greatly appreciated.” 

Lucifer pushed himself back up onto his feet, eyes ablaze with rage. “What did you say to me, you rotten little bitch?” 

“I think you heard him,  _ Alpha _ .” An unfamiliar voice came from somewhere behind Crowley before its owner appeared in his peripheral. From the sharp scent of cherries that Crowley caught, he could tell they were an Omega. She was about his height, dressed in lovely trousers and a delicate floral shirt. Her black hair was pulled back into a meticulous braid and she looked fierce as she positioned herself between Crowley and Lucifer. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Lucifer snapped. “Another Omega?” 

“My Omega,” another woman said, voice lacking the anger in everyone else’s. She was slighter than her mate, red hair loose and curling down her back. “And I wouldn’t press her. Her bite is far worse than her bark.” The Alpha turned to Crowley and offered him an easy smile. “You alright, love?” 

“I’m fine.” 

She picked up his basket and handed it to him. “This arsehole giving you trouble?” 

“A little.” She smelled like oatmeal and brown sugar. Crowley accepted his basket. 

“This is no one else’s business,” Lucifer insisted. 

“You’ve made it everyone’s business, walkin’ around here like an arse.” The Omega huffed. “Why don’t you fuck off?” 

Lucifer glanced between the three of them, scowled, and then turned on his heel and began walking to his car. 

“Thank you,” Crowley murmured, when the Omega turned toward him. 

“Think nothin’ of it. We look out for each other, yeah? Twats like that will get what is coming to them eventually. You need anything? The name is Bekah, by the way.” She nodded. “This is Eva.” 

“A pleasure. I’m Crowley.” 

“Oh, you’re Lord Aziraphale’s husband?” Bekah grinned. “Lucky him. You really stood your ground with that guy.” 

Crowley decided to set aside his surprise that someone knew who he was. “Yeah, well...I’m a bit tired of being pushed around.” 

“Amen to that. You alright from here?” 

“Of course.” 

They walked him to his carriage anyway, where Shadwell sat with a bouquet on the bench next to him. Crowley didn’t comment on it. He said goodbye to his new companions and got into the carriage, grateful to be heading home. 

Shadwell agreed to hide the items he’d purchased and give Madame Tracy the items she’d asked for, so Crowley walked into the house empty handed. Aziraphale greeted him, standing from the table where he’d been having tea. He pulled him into a hug and nuzzled against him, rubbing his scent against Crowley’s skin with a low grumble. 

“Hello, Alpha,” he murmured, running his fingers through Aziraphale’s hair. The smell of cocoa and vanilla surrounded him, soothing the very last remnants of anxiety over his encounter with Lucifer. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked, nuzzling his ear and breathing him in. Crowley huffed. 

“I ran into Lucifer.” 

Aziraphale growled. 

“It is alright. I told him to fuck off.” Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale’s neck and embraced him. “He’s been talking to my mother.” 

“Of course he has.” Aziraphale squeezed him. “Did he say anything significant?” 

“No.” Nothing worth repeating, anyway, Crowley suspected. He nuzzled under Aziraphale’s ear, then leaned his head against his shoulder with closed eyes. “I shoved him to the ground, though.” 

Aziraphale laughed and pulled back from the embrace to properly look at Crowley. “Did you?” 

“Yeah. Dirtied his precious trousers.” Crowley grinned and Aziraphale leaned in to kiss him. 

“My strong, fearsome husband,” Aziraphale murmured against his mouth. 

“Mm.” Crowley continued to smile, kissing back until they were breathless. 

“I ought to get back to work,” Aziraphale said with a sigh, kissing Crowley between the eyes. 

“You go. I’ll see you at dinner.” 

The next day, Crowley schemed with Madame Tracy in the kitchen while Aziraphale finished up some work. 

“I told him happy birthday this morning,” Crowley said as he helped Madame Tracy put together cucumber sandwiches. “He laughed and said he’d forgotten.” 

“He’s never liked celebrating his birthday,” she replied. “At least not since his parent’s passing. They used to all go out for it, either on a country ride, or out to the coast.” 

Crowley paused and glanced over at her. “You don’t think he’ll be upset, do you?” 

Madame Tracy smiled at him. “No. I don’t.” 

“Aziraphale!” Crowley appeared in his doorway around dinnertime, when the sun was just beginning to descend. 

“My love,” Aziraphale greeted, glancing up from the book he was fussing with. “Is it time to wrap up?” 

“It  _ is _ .” Crowley smiled and didn’t miss the way Aziraphale’s eyes trailed over him, surprised. 

“Oh, you’re dressed up aren’t you.” Crowley had gone for what he hoped was a suave look, a deep red undershirt with a fussy slate gray button up left unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. He’d donned light cotton pants of the same color. It was different from his usual summer attire. “Are we meant to go somewhere?” 

“Yes.” Crowley walked over to where Aziraphale sat and held out his hands, Aziraphale taking them. Crowley hauled him to his feet and pulled him into a kiss. “I have a surprise for you.” 

“Do you now?” Aziraphale raised a hand up to cup Crowley’s cheek. “Dressed like that, I’ve more a mind to take you to bed than indulge in your surprise.” 

“ _ Angel _ ,” Crowley huffed, pulled his hand away in favor of lacing their fingers together. “Surprise first, then you can take me to bed and do whatever you’d like.” 

“Whatever I’d like, hm?” Aziraphale appeared to consider that and it sent a little thrill down Crowley’s spine. “That’s quite the temptation.” 

“That’s my specialty.” He tugged at their joined hands, leading Aziraphale out of the room. “Come on, downstairs.” 

“Shouldn’t I change into something else?” 

Crowley shook his head. “You’re still wearing a waistcoat, in this heat. You’re fine.” 

“Hmph. If you say so.” 

Crowley didn’t let go of Aziraphale’s hand even as they headed out of the house, Aziraphale giving him puzzled looks. 

“Trust,” Crowley insisted, squeezing Aziraphale’s hand. He led him through the gardens and beyond some of the trees lining the property. Past the trees was the beginning of a farmer’s field, the wild grass edges giving way to soil that would be planted to yield in time for fall harvest. In the grass was the blanket he’d located the day before, spread flat. The telescope case rested in front of it, and a wicker basket sat in the middle. 

“Crowley?” 

“Happy birthday, Aziraphale.” Crowley pulled him to the blanket. “Take off your shoes.” 

They both toed off their shoes and stepped onto the blanket. Crowley let go of Aziraphale’s hand to let him sit and quickly joined him, flipping open the basket. He pulled out the bottle of strawberry wine, offering it up for Aziraphale’s inspection. 

“Oh, this looks lovely.” 

“Picked it up in the village, along with those raspberry tarts you like. Madame Tracy helped me with sandwiches, a cheese plate, some dried meats…” 

Aziraphale set the bottle aside and stole a kiss. “You really are too good to me, my love.” 

“Hardly.” Crowley scoffed and pulled Aziraphale in for another chaste kiss, bumping their noses together. 

Crowley pulled out the cucumber sandwiches and insisted on feeding one to Aziraphale, enjoying Aziraphale’s shy smile as he leaned forward and delicately took it from his fingers. His teeth barely touched him, and Crowley raised his brows, impressed. 

Aziraphale chewed and offered Crowley one in return, which he accepted far less delicately. He snorted as he managed to finally get it into his mouth, which led to him choking for a moment. Aziraphale pat his back until he managed to clear his throat. 

“A little practice, then,” Aziraphale remarked, and Crowley glowered. 

Once the wine was opened they tried it and decided it was a bit sweet for their tastes, but they managed to drink it down anyway. Crowley watched Aziraphale nibble on the raspberry tarts, and as the sun set, he began to set up the telescope. Thanks to the field, they had a decent view of the sky. They should be able to find some of the constellations Crowley had picked for the evening.

Before it got too dark, and as they moved on to a real bottle of wine, Crowley settled close to Aziraphale and presented the map case to him. “For you.” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale set his glass aside and kissed Crowley’s cheek before he set about opening it, being careful when he realized it was something delicate. He pulled it out and unrolled it, gasping. “Oh Crowley, this is…” He spread it out over his lap, even as the edges curled a little. “It is beautiful. Look at the craftsmanship!” 

Crowley studied Aziraphale’s face in the fading light, admiring the warm yellows and oranges as they cast shadows across his face and highlighted his hair. “I’m glad you like it.” 

“Like it? I  _ love _ it.” With a sigh Aziraphale rolled it up, put it away, and then set the map case aside. He turned to Crowley, eyes bright and beautiful. “I love  _ you _ .” 

Crowley blushed and glanced down, only to have Aziraphale direct his gaze back up to him with two fingers beneath his chin. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale said again. “Very dearly.” 

“I love you too, angel.” Crowley melted into him as he was drawn into a kiss, Aziraphale eventually falling onto his back on the blanket so Crowley was sprawled atop him. He held himself up on his elbows, humming as he bit Aziraphale’s lower lip.

“Do we get to skip to the part where I do whatever I want to you, now?” Aziraphale asked, burying his fingers in Crowley’s hair and tugging gently. 

“Mm. Not quite.” But Crowley gave a roll of his hips into Aziraphale’s, grinning. 

“You’re a tease, then.” 

“Very much so.” He nosed under Aziraphale’s jaw and rubbed against his scent gland, humming. “I want to show you the stars, first.” 

Aziraphale flipped them, Crowley making a startled noise as he found himself on his back, gazing up at Aziraphale. “You are better than the stars.” 

Crowley tilted his head back, offering up his throat, which Aziraphale set his mouth on. He kissed around his scent gland before pressing his lips to it, drawing a low, pleased groan from Crowley. Aziraphale tilted his head to brush his cheek against it, Crowley catching his own scent of woodfire and cinnamon. 

“Angel.” Crowley closed his eyes, starting to lose himself to the gentle rocking of Aziraphale’s hips and the heat of his mouth against his neck. 

“Stars,” Aziraphale whispered. “Better show them to me now.” 

Crowley laughed and pushed Aziraphale off of him, Aziraphale smiling all the while. He shuffled over to the telescope, getting up to begin the work of aligning it. From behind him, Aziraphale ran his hands down his sides and up under his shirt. 

“Aziraphale.” 

“Mmhm? I’m just waiting patiently…” Aziraphale pressed a kiss to the nape of Crowley’s neck. 

“You’re being incorrigible, is what you’re doing.” He huffed. Once he was able to locate a few familiar constellations he tugged Aziraphale next to him and helped him find them through the telescope. Aziraphale’s little gasp of surprise was reward enough and Crowley beamed. 

“It is beautiful,” Aziraphale murmured. “Oh, I’ve never really taken the time to look at stars like this.” He glanced at Crowley, smiling. “Show me more?” 

They spent a little while discussing the stars, Crowley regaling Aziraphale with the stories behind them. Finally, as the night grew darker, Crowley tugged Aziraphale over to him and kissed him. 

“Shall we clean up?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Mm. Leave it. The Sergeant said he’d take care of it.” 

Aziraphale looked surprised. “Oh?” 

Crowley grinned and nuzzled their noses together. “He’s got his own surprise for Madame Tracy.” 

“Is it your doing?” 

“Mm.” Crowley shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe a little push.” 

“Alright. We’ll be sure to let him know we’re done.” 

Crowley grabbed the basket and map case but left the telescope and blanket out, returning to the house arm-in-arm with Aziraphale. He found the Sergeant just outside the back door and nodded to him. 

“All yours, Sergeant.” 

“Thank ya kindly. Happy birthday, Lord Aziraphale.” 

“Thank you, Shadwell.” 

Crowley left the basket in the kitchen and was then pulled upstairs and into their den. Aziraphale kissed him there at the end of the bed, tender and warm. “Thank you,” he whispered against Crowley’s lips. “This is the best birthday I’ve had in quite some time.” 

“Mm.” Crowley stepped away to set the map case safely on top of the dresser before he returned to his husband, who practically vibrated in the thin beams of moonlight through the curtains. He cupped Aziraphale’s face and drew him into another kiss. “You deserve it.” 

“Hardly.” Aziraphale ran his hands down Crowley’s front, then pushed his shirt off of his shoulders. “But I’m grateful nonetheless, and I love you.” 

“I love you too. Now, are you ready for the rest of your gift?” 

“The chance to ravish you in whatever way I deem pleasing?” Aziraphale chuckled. “Yes, I’m quite ready.” 

“I’m at your command, then,” Crowley purred. 

“Are you?” Aziraphale stepped away and sat at the foot of the bed. Crowley turned to watch him. “Why don’t you get your shirt and trousers off, then.” 

Crowley huffed and pulled his shirt up over his head, dropping it to the floor. Aziraphale’s eyes roamed over him. 

“You’re gorgeous, you know.” Aziraphale kicked off his shoes and nudged them aside. “All that lean muscle, pale skin, the freckles on your shoulders…” 

“Angel, stop,” Crowley ducked his head and toed off his own shoes. Then, he worked at the laces of his trousers. He was half hard in them, and pushed them down over his hips. He stepped out of them, pulling off his socks. Then he stood for Aziraphale to see, dressed in nothing but his underwear. 

“I’ll say what I like,” Aziraphale said. “Come here, please.” Crowley stepped up between his legs and hummed when Aziraphale’s hands ran down his sides and came to rest on his hips. Then he leaned forward and kissed Crowley’s belly, nuzzling it, tilting his head enough to smear his scent onto Crowley’s skin. 

Crowley reached up to put his hands in Aziraphale’s hair, but Aziraphale pulled back. “Hands at your side for the moment, my love. Please.” 

“Oh.” Crowley felt a hot spike of arousal surge through him as he returned his restless hands to his sides, whimpering when Aziraphale’s lips returned to his stomach. He nipped the skin he kissed, then nosed down along the trail of hair until it disappeared into his underwear. Aziraphale hooked his fingers beneath the edge at Crowley’s hips and tugged them down. 

“Step out of these, please,” Aziraphale said as he left them at Crowley’s ankles. Crowley nearly tripped over them to comply, kicking them away before he stood still again. Aziraphale’s hands returned to his hips as his mouth followed the dip of one, tongue leaving a hot trail over his skin. 

“Mm.” Aziraphale’s hands slipped behind Crowley, palming his ass before sliding down the backs of his thighs. “I love every inch of you.” He bit down gently on his hip, sucking on it so that when he pulled back there was a reddened mark. Then he tilted his head back and gazed up at Crowley. “Take a step back, let me look at you.” 

Crowley was reluctant to move away, but he eventually obeyed. He was hot under Aziraphale’s gaze, wondering what it was about him that Aziraphale liked looking at. 

“Crowley.” Crowley met Aziraphale’s gaze and shivered. “Would you touch yourself for me?” 

“Angel…” Crowley breathed it like a praise, reaching down to take himself in hand. He stroked slowly, shuddering with it, a whine pulled from somewhere deep inside. 

“That’s a love. I really don’t take the time to watch you carefully, do I? Though I must admit I do enjoy watching your face when it is my hand that is on you.” 

Crowley continued to stroke himself, each made more intense by Aziraphale’s gaze on him. “Ah.” He swallowed and squeezed at the base, shuddering through a wave of pleasure. 

“Come here,” Aziraphale beckoned and Crowley stepped back between his legs. Aziraphale guided his hands to his hair and Crowley enjoyed curling them there, Aziraphale’s hair soft between his fingers. Dipping down, Aziraphale took Crowley into his mouth and groaned around him, sending vibrations to his core and causing his hips to jerk forward into the heat of him. 

Aziraphale seemed pleased by that, humming as he laid his hands on Crowley’s hips and began to move. Crowley’s fingers tightened in his hair, drawing a surprised gasp, which around Crowley’s cock sounded downright obscene. Aziraphale took him completely in, swallowed, then pulled back and lapped at the head, eyes flicking up to Crowley who could barely keep his own open. 

“You taste marvelous.” 

“You always say that,” Crowley panted. 

“Mm, because it is always true.” 

“Hedonist.” 

“Mmhm.” Just to show off, Aziraphale took him down his throat again and Crowley cried out. 

“Alpha, please, I’m not going to last if you keep doing that.” 

Aziraphale remained as he was, swallowing again and making eye contact. Then he tugged at Crowley’s hips and, carefully, Crowley pulled back slightly and then forward again. Aziraphale groaned, clearly pleased, and Crowley couldn’t help himself. He started to fuck Aziraphale’s mouth as slowly as he could, savoring the way his cock slid over Aziraphale’s tongue, and the way it felt when Aziraphale’s throat constricted around him. 

“Alpha, Alpha please,” Crowley started to beg, words tumbling from his lips as he began to fuck into Aziraphale’s mouth faster. Aziraphale squeezed his hips, the thrusts pulling wet, obscene sounds that sent coiling tension into Crowley’s core. A couple more thrusts and he didn’t bother pulling out, coming down Aziraphale’s throat with a shout and a sharp tug at his hair. 

When the waves of pleasure subsided and Aziraphale let him slide from his mouth, his legs gave out and he dropped face first onto the bed. 

“Fuck, Alpha.” Crowley shivered and Aziraphale laughed before he trailed kisses over the backs of Crowley’s shoulders. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

“Mmph. Understatement.” Finally, Crowley rolled onto his side. “What do you want?” He reached out and squeezed Aziraphale’s clothed thigh. 

Aziraphale hesitated and looked at the floor, a strange shift from his earlier confidence. 

“Alpha?” Crowley shifted to sit on his knees on the bed. 

“If you’d have me,” Aziraphale began, wringing his hands. “Well. I thought…” He seemed to lose his nerve and stood, beginning to strip down. “I thought we could just go to bed.” 

“Hey, no, wait.” Crowley got to his feet and pulled Aziraphale to a stop just as he had started to shrug off his waistcoat. “Aziraphale, tell me.” 

Aziraphale started at Crowley’s hand on his arm, then looked up helplessly at him. “If your answer is no, we’ll forget this entire conversation happened.” 

“Er.” That left Crowley with an uneasy feeling. “Of course. Sure. Is something wrong?” 

“No. I just thought…” He took Crowley’s hand and laced their fingers together, steadying himself with a breath. “That you might claim me?” 

“Oh.” Oh shit. He waited a second too long to reply because Aziraphale slipped his hand from Crowley’s. 

“I’m sorry. I’m going too fast, aren’t I? It isn’t fair to ask for it after you’ve been so lovely today. We can just rest, it is -” 

Crowley cut him off by yanking him into a kiss. He was scared. He was anxious. He wasn’t sure what it would mean to bite down and leave Aziraphale with a mark that he wasn’t willing to accept himself...but the pain in Aziraphale’s voice, the nerves, the dismissal. Crowley couldn’t handle it. 

He couldn’t give Aziraphale everything, but damn, he’d bond him. He’d leave an impression of teeth on his husband’s inner thigh. 

“Shut up,” Crowley grumbled. “I love you. I want you.” He pushed Aziraphale back onto the bed until he was laid out. Crowley began to undo his trousers, as Aziraphale had only managed to get his clothes off from the waist up. He tugged them and Aziraphale’s underwear down and off, dropping them to the floor before he crawled over and leaned down for a kiss. 

Aziraphale whined softly into it, a strange shift from the usual. Crowley dug his fingers back into Aziraphale’s hair and tugged as they kissed, licking his way into Aziraphale’s mouth, nipping his lips, and growling. His Alpha wanted to be marked. His Alpha wanted  _ him _ . His inner Omega was deeply pleased, practically prancing over having won such a lovely mate. 

“It’ll hurt,” Crowley murmured. 

“I know.” Aziraphale nuzzled their noses together. 

Crowley kissed his way down Aziraphale’s body, his mouth teasing down his neck, teeth scraping the skin in a promise of what was soon to come. At the juncture of his neck and shoulder he bit down and sucked a mark into Aziraphale’s skin before he continued downward, nuzzling soft chest hair and lapping at each nipple. 

Beneath him, Aziraphale was hard and squirming. Crowley took pity on him and reached down to stroke him as he sucked more marks into Aziraphale’s skin. Aziraphale’s hips bucked up, cock sliding against his palm. “Crowley.” 

“Mm.” Crowley let go and kissed over the soft round of Aziraphale’s stomach, nuzzling into it, rubbing his scent on his skin much like Aziraphale had done to him. The smell of cinnamon erupted around him as a trail of oil was left behind, his mouth dipping lower. 

He kissed up the underside of Aziraphale’s cock, lapped at the underside of the head, and then kissed away from it completely. He kissed and nipped down along his thighs before settling more comfortably between Aziraphale’s legs. He was on his hands and knees, leaning low over Aziraphale’s hips. 

Crowley nosed at the bundle of nerves on Aziraphale’s inner thigh, then pressed a kiss to it. Aziraphale squirmed. “Omega.” 

“Alpha,” Crowley acknowledged, turning his head back to Aziraphale’s cock, kissing and laving his tongue over his swelling knot. “Mm. Mine.” 

“Yours.” Aziraphale groaned, and when Crowley looked up at him he had an arm slung over his eyes. 

Crowley returned to his work of covering Aziraphale’s inner thighs with kisses, every now and again sliding his hand up to stroke his cock. He wanted him to be on the edge, ready to tumble over when he bit down, and the very thought made Crowley start to purr. He palmed Aziraphale’s thigh, practically kneaded it, before he leaned down and kissed the spot again. 

Without warning, suddenly overwhelmed with instinct, surrounded with their scents, he bit down. Aziraphale yelped, which turned into a sharp cry, and Crowley tasted metal. His purr grew louder as he kept the bite, allowing Aziraphale to squirm and shift beneath him. Finally, Aziraphale stilled, his breath ragged and filling the room. Crowley let up off the bite, finding the blood welling in the imprints of his teeth momentarily enchanting. 

When he glanced up again, he realized Aziraphale had come. His spend was all over his stomach, his cock still twitching as it continued to pulse pitifully. Aziraphale was well beyond spent, but Crowley kissed at the base of his cock anyway just to hear him grumble. 

Crowley himself was warm all over as he crawled up and pushed Aziraphale’s arm away from his face. He cupped his face in both hands and leaned down to kiss him, glad when Aziraphale kissed him back despite the blood in his mouth. If anything, Aziraphale seemed intent on licking into his mouth, tasting, testing.

“Stay,” Crowley murmured. “I’m going to get something to clean up the bite.” 

Aziraphale growled. Crowley laughed. “You’re not going to bleed all over our bed.” 

“Don’t go far,” Aziraphale grumbled. Crowley sobered a bit and scented him, rubbing his cinnamon and woodfire oil along Aziraphale’s jaw.  _ His _ , he thought, his purr continuing. 

“Never.” Crowley kissed him and then slipped into the nearby washroom, wetting a cloth. He returned and Aziraphale watched him with blown pupils, chest rumbling with a growl that sounded almost like a purr. Crowley pressed the wet cloth to the bite he’d left, applying pressure, and as he did it his hand slipped because Aziraphale sat up. 

“You should be still, Alpha,” Crowley insisted. He leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, reapplying the cloth. The new position appeared to pleasure Aziraphale who nosed beneath his jaw and took a few deep breaths. 

Crowley purred, drawing one of Aziraphale’s hands to his chest and holding it there. Aziraphale eased into him, settling as close as he could while Crowley kept the cloth on his leg. They stayed like that for about ten minutes, Aziraphale becoming more relaxed as time went on, a comfortable weight against him. When Crowley finally lifted the cloth it was stained pink, but the bleeding had stopped. 

“Do you want it wrapped?” Crowley asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head. 

“No.” Aziraphale put his arms around Crowley and wrestled him to the bed, yanking the sheets over him. Crowley tossed the cloth away and wrapped his arms around Aziraphale, pulling him close as they settled into their nest. 

“How do you feel?” Crowley inquired, silence surrounding them except for his softer purr. Aziraphale hummed. 

“Like I love you very much.” 

“I meant the whole biting thing.” 

Aziraphale made eye contact with him. “As I said, like I love you very much.” 

Crowley allowed those words to settle against his chest and then nodded. “I love you too, Aziraphale.” 

He held his Alpha closer and purred until they both drifted to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday!
> 
> Come hang out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale schemes for their anniversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello. Another Wednesday, another strange, strange day in the times we're in. I hope you all continue to be safe, and well, and know that I appreciate all of your comments even if I don't always get around to responding to them. 
> 
> I finished chapter 19 yesterday and I think this main story is going to end at around 21 chapters. But I have some plans for side stories and continuations, so worry not. 
> 
> As it is, enjoy a peek into the world from Aziraphale's POV.

Aziraphale woke to a low throb in his thigh, a passing discomfort that had warmth coiling in his stomach and spreading out to his fingers and toes. Crowley had marked him,  _ claimed _ him, and while it was impossible to love Crowley more than he already did, the tangible, physical reminder was a lovely bonus.

He opened his eyes against the soft morning light and glanced at Crowley. He was asleep, resting on his side with his beautiful red locks cascading over his shoulder, fiery crimson in the morning light. Aziraphale reached up and brushed some of it out of his face, leaning in to press a light kiss to Crowley’s cheek. 

He took a few deep breaths, basking in cinnamon and burned cedar. Aziraphale wanted to bury himself in Crowley’s scent. He wanted to be covered in it, as much as he wanted Crowley to be soaked in his own. A low, grumbling growl came unbidden from somewhere deep in his chest as he nuzzled along Crowley’s neck and caught oil on the tip of his nose, the scent overwhelming every other. 

With that, he reluctantly slipped from bed and made his way to the washroom. His leg hurt. Apparently love was not an appropriate balm for a bite, so he would have to deal with it through a little first aid. He pulled up a stool and took a seat, spreading his legs to get a better look. The light from the window revealed reddened skin, broken in places where the blood clotted and scabbed over. He pressed carefully around it, grimacing at the sting.

It would scar beautifully, as long as he tended to it. He sighed and got up to get a cloth and set to cleaning it up again, accidentally disrupting a scab in the process which left blood welling up again. After thoroughly disinfecting it, he slipped back into the bedroom and pulled on underwear and a pair of dark, soft trousers. 

He crawled back beneath the blankets, still sleep-warm, and smiled at Crowley’s changed position. Crowley had rolled onto his stomach, face shoved in the pillow, likely to try and escape the daylight. The blankets had slipped down Crowley’s back, revealing the pale expanses of his shoulders, dotted with freckles. Aziraphale reached out and traced the freckles, making his own imaginary designs and thinking back on their stargazing the previous night. 

His lips followed his fingers eventually, tongue slipping out to taste the salt of Crowley’s skin. Crowley grumbled into the pillow and shifted, but otherwise didn’t move. Aziraphale smiled into his skin and kissed up to the nape of his neck, his hand rubbing circles down Crowley’s back. 

Beneath his touch, Crowley began to vibrate as his purr filled the room. Oh, what a delightful sound it was. It brought Aziraphale immense pleasure to hear it, especially knowing he was the cause. His Alpha rumbled in return, pleased because his Omega was pleased. His mate was safe and comfortable, and there was little else he could want. 

“Angel,” Crowley mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. Aziraphale laid his hand against his lower back and nuzzled his hair. 

“Good morning.” 

“S’too early.” 

“It is nearly nine. I’m sure we’ve missed breakfast.” 

“Hmph.” Crowley snuggled further into the pillow and sheets, going still. Aziraphale smiled. 

“I’m sure I can scrounge something scrumptious up for us. Would you like breakfast in bed?” 

Crowley tilted his head and peered at Aziraphale through slitted eyes. Aziraphale could barely catch sight of the golden honey eyes he loved so much. “I should be the one getting you breakfast. It was your birthday.” 

“And now it is the next morning, and I’m more than happy to fetch provisions for my clever mate.” Aziraphale was warm with his affection, nearly overwhelmed by it in the light of the morning. He leaned in and kissed Crowley’s temple. “Sleep. I’ll be back.” 

“Hmm.” Crowley nestled his face back into the pillow and drifted, still purring. Aziraphale watched him for a long moment before he left the bed and pulled on a shirt. He slipped out of their den and started down the hall on bare feet, pausing only when he heard voices ahead. 

Down the hall, just outside of Madame Tracy’s room, was Sergeant Shadwell. He was in the same clothes Aziraphale had seen him in the night before, a jacket slung over his arm. 

“I’ll see you later, Sergeant, hm?” Madame Tracy’s voice was all too familiar. Aziraphale watched as she leaned out of the doorway and kissed his cheek. The Sergeant went red with it, the old Alpha ducking his head. 

“Yes, I hope so.” The Sergeant glanced at her, offered her the faintest smile, and then scurried down the hallway. Aziraphale heard his feet on the stairs. 

“Snooping, my Lord?” Madame Tracy smiled and Aziraphale stepped out from the corner he’d been hiding in. 

“Crowley told me the two of you had a date planned last night.” 

“Is he the one to thank for that? I have to admit, I knew about your surprise, I wasn’t expecting one of my own.” Madame Tracy was wrapped in lovely, colorful silks. She had her arms crossed over her chest and looked completely at ease. Aziraphale wondered what she would smell like, if she were an Alpha or Omega. Likely content, warm and soft, like Crowley was first thing in the morning. 

“I assume you don’t need supervision for your courtship?” Aziraphale teased. 

Madame Tracy laughed. “I don’t think you’d care to, dear. Now, where are you off to?” 

“To pull together something for breakfast in bed.” 

“Oh, treating your mate now, hm?” 

Aziraphale straightened up, still smiling. “Of course.” 

“Go on, then. I’ve stayed in too late as it is. I’m sure the house is in total disarray.” 

“I’m certain that’s not the case.” Aziraphale nodded to her in farewell and made his way down to the kitchens. The part time cook who helped Madame Tracy was there, humming to herself. She helpfully directed him to some fruit, cheese, and bread that he began to cut up and plate. He took it back upstairs with him, scooting back into the den with the tray carefully balanced in his hands. 

There were two glasses of freshly squeezed orange juice on the tray that he didn’t want to drop. Crowley looked to be awake, sitting up with the sheet draped lazily over his lap. He smiled, and Aziraphale returned it as he set the tray on the bed. 

“Breakfast, my love.” Aziraphale sat down gingerly and picked up the glass of orange juice, Crowley doing the same. 

“Thank you.” Crowley leaned over and kissed his cheek, and then nuzzled it. Aziraphale could easily get lost in the way cinnamon and fire burst across his senses. 

“My pleasure, my love.” Aziraphale offered Crowley a slice of strawberry and it was accepted with a bit more grace than the previous night. Then Crowley leaned in and stole a strawberry flavored kiss and Aziraphale hummed, delighted. 

They ate together, Crowley settled into his side. Right there, in their den, in their nest, was the only place Aziraphale really ever wanted to be. He kissed the top of Crowley’s head. “I love you.” 

“I know.” Crowley flashed him a smile. “I love you, too.” 

Oh, how easily those words came now that they had nearly a year of marriage between them. Aziraphale’s chest swelled with affection as he fed Crowley the last bite of fruit. 

“Do you need to keep working on the books today?” Crowley asked, rubbing his cheek against Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale wanted to bottle up the easy affections and keep them for a rainy day, for the moments they were separated by one thing or another. 

“Yes. I’m nearly done, though, so I can be yours come afternoon.” 

Crowley’s face shifted into something uncertain before he slid his hand to Aziraphale’s thigh and laid it over the spot where cloth covered his healing bite. It smarted under the touch, but Aziraphale didn’t mind. “You’re always mine,” Crowley murmured, then tucked his face into Aziraphale’s neck. 

Aziraphale let out a rumbling growl, the closest thing he could get to a purr. Sometimes he thought Omegas were lucky for their ability to be so beautifully expressive. There were many times with Crowley that he wished he could return the purr, let Crowley feel the happy vibrations of his chest. “Yes.” 

Crowley brushed his lips to Aziraphale’s jaw. “Are you alright?” 

“More than.” Aziraphale squirmed away to push his trousers down beyond his knees before he settled beside Crowley again. Crowley’s eyes landed on the red and scabbed over mark, a frown making its way onto his lips. 

“I’m sorry my teeth weren’t sharper.” He brushed his fingers reverently over it, visible just below the line of Aziraphale’s underwear. “It isn’t really something we get.” 

“That’s quite alright. I’m pleased with it.” Aziraphale laid his hand over Crowley’s and let the warmth seep into his skin. He turned his head and nuzzled their noses together before he stole a kiss, Crowley’s mouth yielding and open beneath his. He growled again, shifting onto his knees so he could rearrange their positions. 

Crowley broke the kiss and went willingly, eyes never leaving Aziraphale’s lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him. Aziraphale hummed and once Crowley was on his back under him, he leaned in and kissed him again. With a foot, he pushed the blankets away as he deepened the kiss, Crowley still naked from the night before. 

“Your underwear,” Crowley pointed out, groaning soon after when Aziraphale ground his clothed cock against Crowley’s bare one. 

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale pressed a smiling kiss into Crowley’s jaw, then beneath it. He kissed under his chin and then down his throat. Crowley tilted his head back and sighed, fingers running through Aziraphale’s hair. 

“I thought you had work to do.” 

Aziraphale hummed again and bit down on Crowley’s pulse, reveling in the jerk of Crowley’s hips in response. “Would you like me to go?” He asked into his skin, breathing in his scent, enjoying the way it shifted as arousal began to take root. Crowley’s scent almost burned his nostrils and singed the tip of his tongue, the way it grew from sedate and calming into a veritable wildfire. 

It certainly inflamed Aziraphale who wanted  _ more _ , whose Alpha howled over his claim.

“No.” Crowley shivered and dragged him up into another kiss. 

Aziraphale brought Crowley off with his hand and soft endearments whispered into his ear. Crowley came with a cry, his hips shoved up hastily as he painted Aziraphale’s hand and his own stomach with cum. Aziraphale kissed his hammering pulse, then kissed below his ear, and finally his cheek, as Crowley took deep breaths and came down from the edge. 

Crowley shoved him onto his back and returned the favor, not even bothering to get Aziraphale’s underwear off as he used his clever fingers to bring him to his peak. 

They lay together afterward, Crowley sprawled possessively on top of Aziraphale. Aziraphale always liked it, the after. Both of them were sated, limbs heavy and minds pleasantly buzzing. He drew his hand up and down Crowley’s back, fingers tracing the line of his spine, finding all the knobs and dips. 

He didn’t get to work for another hour, but neither of them seemed to mind. 

As summer passed into fall, Crowley became involved in the village harvest while Aziraphale spent his days working. In the evenings he was treated to the latest village gossip, as well as far more knowledge about agriculture than he’d had before. He always trusted his people to do right by themselves and their neighbors, but it was nice to hear his trust was well placed. Crowley seemed to adore helping. 

“The Them have their own garden now,” Crowley pointed out. “They’ve got some basic root vegetables growing and had quite a zucchini yield.” They were eating dinner downstairs, Crowley’s face smudged with dirt in a way that was so endearing, Aziraphale neglected to mention it. He looked happy and sunkissed, his skin slightly darker thanks to long fall days, and his freckles in full effect. 

Aziraphale wanted to kiss him, but that wasn’t new. Aziraphale always wanted to kiss him. 

“Did you know our anniversary is coming up?” Crowley asked while Aziraphale was distracted by thoughts of what he’d like to do to his husband later. He perked up and smiled. He was very aware that their anniversary was coming up and already had plans, though he was worried somehow Crowley would catch on. 

“I do. I would like to think I wouldn’t ever forget it.” Aziraphale took a sip of wine. 

“Did you want to do anything special for it? Maybe go back to London? Have a holiday?” The fact Crowley was openly suggesting it was a lovely surprise, but Aziraphale had other plans. 

“I think I’d like to spend it here, with you.” 

“Oh, that’s alright then.” Crowley shrugged and took a bite of dinner, chewing slowly. 

Aziraphale couldn’t help but note the slight disappointment on Crowley’s face, and it couldn’t stand. He sighed. “Alright, perhaps I already have plans and just don’t wish to tell you about them until the day of.” 

Crowley perked up at that, golden eyes brightening. “A surprise, then?” 

“Mmhm. Not much of one now, I admit.” 

“I still don’t know  _ what _ you’re doing,” Crowley pointed out, gesturing at him with his fork. “So I won’t ask anymore questions. Or snoop.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “Well, now I’m certain you’re going to snoop.” 

Crowley grinned. “Me? Never.” 

“I got it,” Shadwell informed Aziraphale just a few days before his official anniversary. 

“Hm?” Aziraphale glanced up from an old Bible he was restoring. 

“The gift.” 

“ _ Oh _ .” Aziraphale brightened. “Excellent.” 

Late the night before their anniversary, Aziraphale slipped out of bed and joined Shadwell outside. Sitting on the ground was a giant potted fern, easily wider than Aziraphale, and nearly as tall. Beside it was a large wooden plant stand, about three feet off the ground. 

Though those items were the stars of the show, Aziraphale also had Shadwell purchase a well established monstera - or swiss cheese plant - something Crowley had struggled to grow himself. “These are wonderful.” 

“The village florist helped me out.” Shadwell shrugged. “He knew a lady trying to get rid of some of her collection.” 

“Well, lets see what we can do.” 

The fern was carefully taken to the plant room and set up in a corner that Aziraphale had cleared. It looked handsome on the stand, and Aziraphale couldn’t wait for Crowley to see it. The other plant, the monstera, was easy enough to handle and he maneuvered it into their room, near the bed. 

He made sure its large leaves would be visible from Crowley’s side. With a huff, he stripped off his clothes and crawled back into bed. Crowley remained fast asleep, shifting to snuggle into Aziraphale before he stilled again. 

Aziraphale kissed the top of his head and fell asleep. 

“Angel.” Aziraphale was woken by Crowley shaking his shoulder. He was hovering above him, a smile on his face, eyes strangely bright for so early in the morning. Though a glance at the sun through the window told him perhaps it wasn’t as early as he thought. “A plant has mysteriously appeared. You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would you?” 

Aziraphale glanced over at it, then back at Crowley. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Hasn’t that always been there?” 

Crowley snorted and then leaned in to kiss him, fingers stroking over the side of Aziraphale’s face. “How did you find it?” 

“With a little help, compliments of someone trying to thin out their collection. I take it you like it?” 

“I love it. Can it stay where it is? It won’t bother you?” The leaves provided a bit of shade for Crowley’s side of the bed, like a tropical getaway. It was perfect, and Aziraphale adored the joy he saw plain as day on Crowley’s face. 

“Of course it can stay right there.” Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, curling the soft strands around his fingers. “Happy anniversary.” 

“Mm. Happy anniversary, Alpha.” Crowley kissed him, and they spent the morning in bed. Aziraphale figured Crowley would find the fern on his own, eventually. Once he was allowed out of their nest, and away from the circle of Aziraphale’s arms. 

They did make it out of their den for tea, and for a trip to the plant room where Crowley gasped and practically buried himself in the fern. He was smitten, running his hands over the leaves, inspecting it, glancing at Aziraphale as if he couldn’t believe it was there. 

“It is  _ huge _ .” 

“Yes. It was well loved in its previous home, I suspect.” Aziraphale held his hands behind his back and smiled, rocking back on his heels. 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley looked helpless as he left the fern and walked over to grab Aziraphale’s face, kissing him. “Did you drag all of this in here in the middle of the night?” 

“Something like that.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist. 

“You’re mad.” 

“Mad for you, yes.” 

Crowley made a noise between a groan and a laugh before he pulled Aziraphale into another kiss. It turned out he had a surprise of his own. He’d worked with Madame Tracy to learn how to make one of Aziraphale’s favorite desserts, strawberry shortcake, with strawberries they had canned when they were in season. It was delicious, particularly since it was topped with fresh whipped cream that Crowley dolloped on Aziraphale’s nose and then kissed off with a cheeky little lick. 

At Crowley’s request they went for a walk in the crisp autumn evening, arm in arm. Aziraphale stole kisses and scented Crowley whenever they paused to look at this or that, Crowley’s eyes often on the sky. The clouds rolled by, occasionally revealing the sparkle of stars above. Eventually they came to the part of the property where their ceremony had been only a year before, two strangers brought together by overbearing families. 

He looked at Crowley who gazed up at the sky pensively and wondered at how lucky he was. “Crowley.” 

“Alpha.” Crowley turned his eyes on Aziraphale. The gold in them was luminous, almost otherworldly in the dim light of the moon and stars. 

He guided Crowley to stand in front of him, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. Then, he leaned their foreheads together and closed his eyes. Crowley’s breathing was soft and even, his body still. Finally, Aziraphale opened his eyes and met Crowley’s questioning gaze. 

“If we weren’t already married,” Aziraphale began, the question he wanted to ask plaguing him. “After this year of courtship would you...would you be mine? Do you think you would have said yes if I’d been able to do it properly?” 

Crowley exhaled and then brushed Aziraphale’s hand away from his face so he could reach up with both of his and hold Aziraphale’s face. His thumbs brushed over Aziraphale’s cheekbones as Crowley searched his eyes and then smiled. 

“Yes. Even if there’s no way to ever know, what I can tell you now is that I say yes. I will say yes to you every day, Aziraphale. I love you. I love your kind heart, your gentle demeanor, the way you grumble and growl. I love how much you love my purr, how you respect my boundaries, and how you protect me. You have driven me to try new things, to make new friends, have new experiences and I am changed for the better as a result.” Crowley took a breath, and then another, swallowing around what appeared to be a lump in his throat. 

Aziraphale could relate. He was on the edge of tears, Crowley’s words sinking in and grabbing his heart in a vice. 

“I’m glad that you are mine, and that I am yours, and maybe in another year we can have a ceremony of our own. One that has our friends and the people we love at it, instead of the one we were forced to have.” 

“I would like that.” Aziraphale smiled through the tears that trickled hot down his face. Crowley wiped them away as they fell. “I would like that very much, but I think you ought to be the one to propose this time.” 

“You didn’t propose the last time!” Crowley said with a laugh, bringing their lips together in a chaste kiss. “We’ll figure out. Perhaps we can propose to each other.” 

“Perhaps. As long as it ends with you in my bed and my arms every night, I’m not picky.” Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s waist and pulled him close. Crowley laid his cheek against Aziraphale’s shoulder with a happy sigh. 

“Always, Alpha.” 

Aziraphale took it for the promise that it was, squeezing Crowley around the waist. 

The village had a celebration for the end of the harvest season, Aziraphale and Crowley in attendance both out of duty as much as their own interests. Anathema and Newt had come out for it, too, Newt munching on roasted corn and trying not to laugh as Anathema told him something funny. Aziraphale let his gaze wander over everyone, a cup of hot cider warming his hands. 

“Everything alright, Lord Aziraphale?” Anathema asked, having left Newt’s side to join his. Aziraphale wondered if her forest scent changed with the seasons, because at the moment she smelled like a crisp fall morning, like leaves wet with dew. It calmed him, drew him into a sense of peace that had him leaning gently into her. 

Anathema happily put an arm around his waist and nuzzled along his jaw, leaving her scent on his skin. “Simply enjoying the festivities, my dear,” he answered.

“Good.” Anathema was shorter than him and was able to rub her cheek against his shoulder before she laid her head against it. “I have something for you.” 

“Oh?” 

Anathema pulled an envelope from within her embroidered jacket and offered it to him. Aziraphale took it, handing her his drink to hold as he turned it over in his hands. “And this is?” 

“An invitation. The Embers are having a party in another month to celebrate their son’s engagement.” 

“The Embers.” Aziraphale only had passing familiarity with the family. They were a noble family that generally kept to themselves, especially after their only son ran off to the city. It seemed the prodigal son had returned home, not that Aziraphale was particularly invested. “Interesting. And I’ve earned an invitation?” 

“I was asked to pass it on to you, yes.” Anathema glanced at him. “Due to proximity alone, I promise. Not for any strange purpose. The messenger found me while on business and I offered to bring yours.” 

“Ah.” That eased the momentary suspicion that had swelled. “If that’s the case, I’m looking forward to it, assuming Crowley would like to attend.” 

“We can all go together. We’ll make a night of it, cause a scene.” Anathema flashed him a smile that was sharp and all teeth. He hummed and nuzzled against her, returning the scenting she’d given him earlier, his Alpha soothed by the presence of his pack Alpha. She growled, pleased, and then glanced up as Crowley approached. 

“You two look cozy,” he pointed out. 

“No need to be jealous,” Anathema said as she stepped away from Aziraphale and into Crowley’s space, humming as she nuzzled him. Aziraphale watched with only a twinge of jealousy that was washed out by the mingling scents of their pack. Anathema wasn’t a threat, she was a friend, his Alpha, their collective protector. 

He appreciated her for it, too, and had since they were young. Crowley huffed and nuzzled her in return, his cheeks red. But he wasn’t pulling away, or shying away from it. He had accepted his place in their little makeshift pack and that made Aziraphale glad. It was good to have a family of choice, full of individuals all looking out for one another. 

Once Anathema was satisfied she released Crowley, who immediately stepped over to Aziraphale and kissed his cheek. “Hello.” 

“Hello,” Aziraphale greeted, warmed by Crowley’s proximity. He breathed him in and caught the scent of tangerines, mingling with Anathema’s earthy scent, and his own chocolate blended with Crowley’s cinnamon. He smelled like home, and safety, and Aziraphale put an arm around him and pulled him to his chest. “We’ve been invited to a party.” 

“Oh? Right now?” Crowley glanced at Anathema who shook her head and then was distracted by Newt. She waved before she took off toward him, and Aziraphale watched her go before he turned his attention back to his mate. 

“No, I haven’t had a chance to read the invitation yet. But do you know the Embers?” 

“Mm. Only by reputation, and my mother’s opinion on their wayward heir.” 

“Yes, well, apparently the heir has returned, with a mate no less. They’re engaged and having a party to celebrate.” 

Crowley leaned his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Sounds interesting, at least. It would be nice to go to one and not have my mother constantly trying to match make.” 

Aziraphale snorted. “Yes, I know the feeling well. It is why I stopped attending them altogether. I grew tired of Gabriel trying to auction me off like a piece of meat.” 

Crowley pressed a kiss beneath his ear. “You are a lovely piece of meat.” Aziraphale could feel his lips curl into a grin against his neck. 

“Mm. My love, we’re in public.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Crowley put his arms around him and hugged him before he stepped back, taking Aziraphale’s hands in his. “Come on, angel. I think the kids are debuting their new flavors of ice cream at their booth. They claim the combination of chocolate and strawberry is its own flavor.” 

“They’re quite a creative lot.” 

“Yeah, and I want to buy you a scoop.” 

Aziraphale allowed Crowley to tug him back into the madness, the descending afternoon sun bathing the main street in soft oranges and yellows. It made the leaves on the trees glow like embers. Despite the warm sun, the air was crisp, threatening a future of grey skies and winter gloom. 

But for the moment, Aziraphale had his fiery mate dragging him to a booth where Adam Young and the Them were peddling ice cream, and all was well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday!
> 
> Come hang out on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley get ready to attend a party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there my darlings. It is once again Wednesday in these strange times we're in. I hope consistent updates are as helpful to you as they are to me! They give me a sign post in the middle of a nebulous week, and I know I can always look forward to seeing everyone's reactions. We'll get through this, one way or another. But if you're having a hard time feel free to reach out. I'm happy to chat. 
> 
> This chapter has a wee bit of a cliffhanger. It is nothing super dramatic, but I know some folks don't like them. So if you want to wait until next week to read this chapter and the next back to back, you can. 
> 
> Enjoy.

“I hate tailors.” Crowley scowled as they stood outside of a tailoring shop. It was run out of a gentleman’s home, or so Aziraphale said, and he had insisted he was the best. Crowley still didn’t like it. He had never liked dressing up, or being fussed over by a stranger. His last experience with a tailor had been with the one his mother had hired to dress him for his wedding, and needless to say it wasn’t a fond memory. 

Aziraphale laid a hand against his lower back. “If you really don’t want to go -” 

“No, no.” Crowley huffed. They had already made the trip, and Crowley had technically agreed to let Aziraphale dress him for the event. “Is there a theme for this party?” 

“Strangely enough, there is.” Aziraphale chuckled. “Despite it being what I thought was a dull engagement party, they have asked us to come dressed in the trappings of Heaven and Hell.” 

“You’re not serious.” Crowley shook his head. 

“Yes, well, I almost wish I weren’t. At the same time, I’m looking forward to seeing what certain folks in the snooty circles end up wearing. It isn’t polite, after all, to accept an invitation and not adhere to the theme.” 

“Right.” Crowley finally tugged Aziraphale up to the door and knocked. “Here we go.” 

It turned out Louis was a friendly gentleman in his mid-forties, with olive skin and dark green eyes. He was an Omega and Crowley caught hints of ginger with another scent that bordered on spicy. It was an interesting scent, like a good curry. What Crowley didn’t expect was to be introduced to Louis’ Omega wife, Angeline. 

He tried his best to hide his surprise and, much to his shame, his immediate judgement. Crowley had never met an Omega couple before. He had heard of them, of course. There had been children in his parent’s circles who ended up marrying another Omega against their parent’s wishes. They were promptly ostracised. It was seen as going against the natural order of things. He thought back to the Levys, the two Alphas back in London, and realized he didn’t have quite the same reaction to them. 

In the world Crowley was raised in, two Alphas together was a curiosity. Two Omegas? Unholy. 

His awkward stalling was overlooked in favor of Aziraphale’s fond greetings, Angeline seeming nonplussed when Crowley stuttered out his own greeting. 

“So you’re going to the Embers’ party, hm?” Louis asked after he had led them both back to the part of his home that acted as his tailoring studio. He had all sorts of fabrics on display, with pre-cut and sewn pieces to try on for style. It was impressive, and Crowley shared a half-smile with Aziraphale. This place, and the man who ran it, were very different from the sterile touch of the tailor and assistants his mother had hired. 

“We are,” Aziraphale answered, while Crowley touched some particularly soft fabric. “You’ve heard about it?” 

“Mm. I hear many things.” Louis flashed him a smile. “It is supposed to be quite the event.” 

“And what have you heard?” 

“Oh.” Louis considered the question as he grabbed his measuring tape. “This and that. How about I begin with your husband’s measurements, and tell you along the way?” 

Crowley stood obediently on a stool as Louis circled around him, taking his measurements and guiding him into various stances. All the while he talked, even as he scribbled down numbers on an ancient notepad in his hands. 

“The Embers’ boy, I hear he is quite the sensation. His parents are not happy with his mate, but they are happy to have their heir back. I think their people are happy, too.” Louis tapped his pencil against Crowley’s thigh. “Turn if you would, please?” 

Crowley did as he was asked and Louis continued speaking as he measured the outside of Crowley’s leg. 

“The Embers are not unkind but they are without another child, and their cousin, oh, he is not well liked despite being in line to inherit.” Louis tsk’ed. “So they will let him take any mate if it means he continues the line! Thus, he has returned.” He pat Crowley’s hip. “I have your measurements, I can begin thinking about style. Please, let Angeline entertain you while I think.” 

“You don’t need Aziraphale’s measurements?” Crowley asked as he stepped down from the stool. 

Louis chuckled. “Your Aziraphale, he has not changed so much. I can eyeball it.” 

“Thank you, Louis.” Aziraphale put a hand on Crowley’s lower back and led him back to the other side of the cottage, into a sitting room area where Angeline was setting out a tray with tea. 

“Ah, he’s let you go.” Her accent was firmly English, which made Crowley realize that Louis’ was far from it. Was he Italian? Something else? He puzzled over it as they were directed to sit and handed tea. 

“Yes, he needs to work his magic.” Aziraphale smiled and added a cream and a spoonful of sugar to his cup. Angeline bustled by and set a plate with biscuits and a small sandwich at his elbow. Crowley caught the scent of flour and brown sugar and marveled at how simple it was. It soothed him, when Louis’ scent had been somewhat grating. 

When Angeline left the room, Aziraphale set a hand on Crowley’s lap and leaned toward him. “Is everything alright?” 

Crowley huffed. “Yes.” 

“Excellent.” Though Aziraphale didn’t look convinced he dropped the subject. 

They proceeded through the rest of the outfitting process, fabrics and cuts chosen for them. Crowley’s suit was to be made out of dark fabrics with lighter accents. Aziraphale’s would be a study in opposites, light fabrics with matching dark accents. 

By the end of it all, Crowley was tired and overwhelmed with the scents of two other Omegas in close quarters. The fresh air outside was welcome, and was immediately tinged with chocolate and vanilla as Aziraphale stepped in close and nuzzled him. 

They walked arm-in-arm to the carriage, and once they were inside and on their way back toward their estate Aziraphale settled close and looked at him. “What is on your mind, my dear?” 

“They’re both Omegas,” he blurted out, because it had been weighing on him. “How does that even work?” 

Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose before he shrugged and put an arm around Crowley’s shoulders. “How does any relationship work? How does an Alpha or an Omega win over a Beta? They’re just people, Crowley.” 

“I was in a house with them for half a day and I started to get overwhelmed with their scents. How do they manage?” 

“The same way, I imagine, you are okay with Newt’s scent over time. They are married, but that also makes them pack members. We grow used to the scents around us. I’m rarely bothered by Anathema, unless she’s particularly irate about something. Even then, it is less a negative reaction and more one that is born from concern. They’ve grown used to it.” 

Crowley allowed his head to fall onto Aziraphale’s shoulder and sighed. “I feel like I’m judging them.” 

“You are,” Aziraphale replied. “But you’re learning.” 

He tried to imagine what it would be like to be with another Omega. Sometimes he felt he hated his own Omega nature so much that if he were with someone else like him, he’d go insane. Aziraphale was a steadying force, a compliment to his secondary nature. But then again, Aziraphale was right: he didn’t mind Newt’s scent. He didn’t take issue with his pack members, and hadn’t minded being exposed to the two Omegas in London. 

It had just been something centered on two Omegas in a relationship that had bothered him. He’d have to grapple with it, and insisted to himself that it was okay. They were happy and well cared for, just as he was. Their secondary gender wasn’t important. 

They arrived home and Crowley was happy to be in a place that smelled like them, and like Madame Tracy’s baking. Crowley was especially pleased to catch cinnamon on the air that didn’t belong to him and followed his nose to the kitchen, a bemused Aziraphale following close behind. 

“Whatever you’re making,” Crowley announced as he stepped into the kitchen, “it smells amazing.” 

Madame Tracy looked up with a smile. “Coffee cake, for the morning. I thought you might appreciate it.” 

“Oh, that does look scrumptious. You’ve outdone yourself.” Aziraphale bustled by to take a closer smell. “Mm. My favorite sort of scent.” He cast a meaningful look at Crowley who blushed. 

They had a light dinner, having been fed well while Louis worked, and then retired to bed. Once they were stripped down and in the nest, Crowley nestled as close to Aziraphale as he could get and rubbed his scent up along his jaw and down his neck, covering him in it. 

Once he was satisfied, he settled. As soon as he relaxed, he was rolled and pinned to the bed as Aziraphale proceeded to cover him in his scent in return, grumbling. Crowley laughed and buried his fingers in Aziraphale’s curls but decided not to tug. He simply touched him, humming as Aziraphale switched from rubbing his scent oil against Crowley’s skin to brushing his lips against it. 

“I thought you might like to smell like me in return,” Aziraphale murmured, kissing up to his jaw. 

“Yes.” Crowley did, very much. He rubbed his fingers against Aziraphale’s scalp and then slid his hand to the nape of his neck with a happy sigh. Aziraphale chuckled and pecked him on the lips before he settled back against the bed, Crowley in his arms. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered into his ear. 

“Yeah.” Crowley settled with his back against Aziraphale’s chest and breathed in their scents. “I love you too.” 

They received their clothes a few days after meeting with the tailor, Louis putting final finishes on them in their sitting room. As the day of the party grew closer, visits from Anathema and Newt became more frequent. While Anathema and Aziraphale chatted about their clothes and plans, Crowley introduced Newt to Honey. He had gone to the second floor and clicked his tongue, grinning at the responding ‘mrow’ from somewhere down the hall. 

Just like that, the tabby came pitter pattering out of a side room and then stopped partially down the hall when she realized there was a guest. She went stock still and Crowley dropped onto his knees and clicked his tongue again. “Come on, love. He’s a friend.” 

Newt copied his posture and Honey slowly crept toward them, her tail flicking behind her. She reached Crowley’s outstretched hand and made a curious trilling sound as she rubbed her cheeks against his fingertips. Then, she stepped closer to him and sniffed in Newt’s direction. 

“See? He’s a friend.” Crowley ran his fingers down Honey’s back and she arched into the touch, mewing before she sniffed at Newt’s fingertips. Then she carefully rubbed her cheek against them before flinching back and returning her attention to Crowley. 

“That’s progress,” Newt said with a soft laugh. “Last time I saw her, she swatted me.” 

“She’s coming along just fine. Isn’t that right, my love?” He carefully scooped her up into his arms and she humored him for a few moments, giving him a parting lick to his chin before she squirmed out of his grasp. She landed back on the floor, stretched, and then padded away and into a room. 

Crowley warmed to the idea of the party the closer they drew to it, and at one point caught Aziraphale trying on his suit. He slipped up behind him and nuzzled beneath his ear, playfully palming the front of his trousers. “I like how you look in this.” 

“Oh, do you now?” Aziraphale chuckled and turned in Crowley’s embrace. 

“Mm. I’d like to see you out of it, too.” 

Aziraphale kissed him. “As you wish.” 

The morning of, Crowley woke warm and comfortable. With winter setting in, they left the wood stove going and it kept their room heated. Aziraphale often worked as a portable heater, too. For all of Crowley’s cold blooded ways, Aziraphale tended to run warm. With late autumn skies waiting for them outside, Crowley snuggled closer into the heat of Aziraphale’s side and inhaled. 

He inhaled sharply when he realized something was off, and dread settled in his belly. Despite the anxiety that rushed through him, there was something in the change in scent that tried to pressure him into being okay. It told his Omega that everything was alright, his Alpha was there and would take care of him. 

Aziraphale was going into another rut. Crowley recognized the edge of burnt sugar in Aziraphale’s scent and it reminded him of sore hands and clawed doors. A soft whine escaped him, equal parts upset and wanting. It was loud enough to wake up Aziraphale who, in the dim light of the morning, looked at him with hazy blue eyes. 

“Are you alright?” He slurred, reaching up to wipe sleep from his eyes. 

“Alpha.” Crowley pressed his face into Aziraphale’s chest and sighed. He was going into rut, on the day of the damn party, which meant they were about to be separated for a few days. Aziraphale made a concerned, questioning sound and Crowley shook his head. 

Then Aziraphale stilled. “Ah.” 

Crowley glanced up at him and caught the unhappy look on Aziraphale’s face. “It was about time, I guess,” Crowley offered up. 

Aziraphale stared up at the ceiling. “I suppose.” 

They let the realization sink in in silence. Crowley was the first to move, hesitantly settling half on top of Aziraphale. “Alpha?” 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale looked at him and then looked away, frowning. 

Crowley nuzzled his jaw, then brushed his nose against his scent gland. He let the faint smell of burning sugar sear into his skin. He could sense Aziraphale’s trepidation in his stiff silence, and in the way he refused to look Crowley in the eye. It wasn’t because he was mad at Crowley, though that might have been what he had believed a year ago. No, Crowley knew Aziraphale better than that. 

“It is okay,” he murmured and Aziraphale shook his head and tensed for a moment, leaving Crowley to wonder if he was about to be pushed away. Instead, he was pulled closer, an arm around his waist and a hand warm against his upper arm. 

Crowley relaxed and nestled his face in the curve of Aziraphale’s neck, breathing with him. 

“Sometimes I wish I weren’t an Alpha,” Aziraphale admitted, voice soft. Crowley listened. “I wonder how things would be different if I weren’t.” 

Crowley allowed the statement to hang there, waiting to see if Aziraphale continued. He didn’t, so Crowley began. “I think I get it, at least some of it, but…” Crowley pressed a kiss to the skin beneath his lips. “I love that you’re  _ my _ Alpha.” 

Aziraphale sighed through his nose and then tilted his head and brushed a series of kisses to whatever bits of Crowley he could get to. “I won’t be able to go to the party tonight.” 

“I thought as much.” Crowley wouldn’t even be able to sleep in the same room as his mate for days. There was no way it would be smart to take an Alpha in rut to a party. 

“Will you go on my behalf?”

Crowley frowned, but nodded. “Yes.” 

“Good. I’d hate to be the one to ruin all of this.” 

“Hardly.” Crowley’s Omega accused him of abandoning his Alpha with thoughts of going to a party while Aziraphale lay in bed, suffering through another rut without him. “Ugh.” 

“I know.” 

“You’re the one who has to go through it.” Crowley was lucky enough that his medication worked to keep his heat from being any sort of constant in his life. Though it seemed Aziraphale went into rut rarely and sporadically, which wasn’t terribly uncommon for an Alpha whose mate was not regularly going into heat. If Crowley were off his medication, odds were Aziraphale would sync to his cycles, to give them the best chance of producing a child. 

A thing he decided he very much  _ didn’t _ want to think about, with the smell of hot caramel in his nose. The last thing he needed to do was walk down the path his Omega tried to drag him down. 

“You could ask Anathema and Newt to stay,” Aziraphale pointed out. “They could come here after the party. I imagine they might have, anyway. They like a change of scenery.” 

“They like being with you,” Crowley said with a huff. 

“And you.” Aziraphale finally smiled, even though it was faint. “You are part of their pack now, after all.” 

“Yeah.” Crowley had come to accept it, because he found he  _ liked _ being part of a pack. Crowley slipped a hand beneath Aziraphale’s sleeping shirt and touched his heated skin, fingers skating over soft hair on his belly. 

Aziraphale’s hand laid on his arm and stilled him. He shook his head. “Best not.” 

“I could take the edge off,” Crowley offered. 

“Ah.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and swallowed. “That’s not a road to go down, my love. However much I appreciate the offer.” 

Crowley tried to ignore the guilt that dogged him. 

“I should think about moving into one of the guest rooms again.” 

“No.” Crowley shifted, holding himself up over Aziraphale to gaze down at him. “You will stay in our nest. I’ll stay in the guest room, or in a nest downstairs with Anathema and Newt.” 

“Crowley -” 

“No, Aziraphale. This stole you from our nest last time. I don’t want that again.” It was his turn to swallow hard around what he wanted to say. “And I want to be able to come to you, if that is my decision.” 

Aziraphale studied him quietly and then reached up to cup his cheek, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. “Alright. I’ll stay in the nest, if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s palm. 

Crowley eventually left their bed, taking only a couple items from it to move into the guest room that Honey had claimed as her home base. He left them on the bed and found her curled up on the fabric pad that Madame Tracy had sewn for her. It lay on the windowsill so she could bask in the sun. 

“Not much sun for you today, Honey.” Crowley rubbed her between the ears and, other than a soft ‘chirrrrrp’ sound, didn’t get any other reaction. “I think we’re going to be roommates for a few days.” 

That evening, Anathema and Newt arrived with their clothes in hand. 

“Where’s Aziraphale?” Anathema asked as she stepped inside. 

“He’s in rut,” Crowley answered, watching as Anathema’s face fell. 

“Oh.” 

“That’s a pity,” Newt stepped in. “But I suppose the show must go on. Are you still planning to accompany us to the party, Crowley?” 

“Yeah. Aziraphale asked me to go on our behalf, since we RSVPed.” Crowley glanced at Anathema who appeared to have recovered from her initial disappointment. 

“Well, I’m glad you’re coming at least. I thought Newt and I were going to be forced to go it alone.” She smiled. “Come on, then, let’s get our outfits figured out.” 

Anathema had a dress made for the occasion. A gown, really. It draped artfully down around her feet and the fabric was meant to be white, but from certain angles it looked to have shadows. 

“Was that done on purpose?” Crowley asked, reaching out to lift some of the dress, moving the fabric in the light and watching it change. 

“Of course.” Anathema smiled. “What’s Heaven without a little glimmer of Hell, right? Now, would you mind braiding my hair?” 

He braided her hair back and helped her put small black and white flowers throughout the plait. Newt was dressed in a suit and entered as Crowley put the finishing touches on Anathema’s hair. He was dressed in all shades of grey, which played a trick on Crowley’s eyes for a moment. He blinked it away. 

“Gray?” 

Newt smiled. “I thought Earth ought to be represented, and if Heaven is all about light and Hell about the darkness...I thought I’d play in shades of grey.” 

Crowley nodded. “Well done.” 

He donned his own outfit, which had been removed from their den earlier in the day. Aziraphale had remained in their room and Crowley hadn’t checked on him. If he did, he wouldn’t leave. He’d strip and crawl into bed and press his heated skin against Aziraphale’s. It was better to keep distance between them even if it created a vice around his heart. 

Crowley got into the carriage and tried not to think too much about Aziraphale. It wasn’t easy. 

What made it somewhat easier as they grew closer to the estate was their view of it. It distracted him, as it was up on a sloping hill. It was less manicured than most estates, the enormous house tucked back against heavy woods. The house itself was accented with dark iron, and there were gargoyles in the eaves. 

“This is like something out of a fairy tale.” Crowley shook his head in disbelief. 

“Something like that. The Embers always had a bit of dark flare, I guess. I don’t know them as well as I know of some of the other families.” Anathema shrugged. “We’ll find out more about them soon, I imagine.” 

“Right.” Crowley watched as the house grew larger, up until they pulled to a stop. There were decorative torches lit in the garden, with shaded tables and lanterns set up. Very few guests were mingling outside, which didn’t surprise him. It was chilly, fall threatening to tip into winter very rapidly, and he wasn’t sure he’d want to spend any time outside. 

A butler greeted them at the door of their carriage, opening it and helping each of them down. Anathema took care of the invitations and soon enough they were all let in to a candle lit foyer. It was a beautiful home, with large paintings depicting hellish scenes. He wondered if the paintings had been made for the occasion, or if the theme had been inspired by them. 

Either way, he keenly missed Aziraphale because he had a feeling there was history in the paintings that Crowley was missing. And Aziraphale would know. He always did. 

Anathema looped her arm through one of his, Newt the other, and they led him through the foyer into a grand sitting room. It had been dressed up to reflect the theme. The fireplace was lit, the flames licking along the brick, and all around them were candles. Some sat atop black lace, others white, reflecting the dichotomy inherent in Heaven and Hell. 

It was something else. There were folks mingling, some Crowley vaguely recognized from his parent’s parties. Others, he didn’t recognize at all. There were some guests who had gone all the way and donned halos and demon’s wings, while others were far more subdued in their choices. 

Crowley fidgeted in his own suit, missing his other half. He didn’t match as well with Newt and Anathema. 

On top of everything else, he had placed patches on his neck for the occasion and was left once again to wonder how he ever survived before in a scentless world. He hated the way the medical adhesive made his skin itch, and how he couldn’t even scent himself for comfort. He wondered if Newt and Anathema had as much trouble as he did, but looking at them he couldn’t really tell. 

A waiter came by with a tray of wine and Anathema snagged glasses for all of them, passing them around. Crowley smiled, grateful, as he took a sip and they proceeded into the main ballroom. If he thought the other room had been magnificent, well, this one was beyond that. The gas lamps had been muted to cast eerie orange light throughout the room. There was a grand chandelier that caught and reflected the light, giving the space and otherworldly feeling. 

Dark and light fabrics had been draped on the walls, some patterned and others plain. It was certainly the strangest engagement party Crowley had ever been to, but it was also the most interesting. 

Crowley made a startled sound when his legs were knocked out from under him. A body, petite and fast, slammed him to the ground with what he registered as a playful growl. 

“Look what the fuckin’ cat dragged in.” Above him, Beez’s familiar face came into view. They bared their teeth in a grin and Crowley could catch their tart apple scent, noticing they weren’t wearing patches. 

“Beez.” 

“Shit, Crowley!” Anathema sounded alarmed, but Newt stood by and seemed nonplussed. 

Crowley struggled with Beez and caught them off guard, managing to wrestle them to the ground. “I’m not the one who looks like they were dragged in. Did you even wash your hair?” 

Beez snorted, then shoved their full weight back against him and managed to knock him off balance. Their wrestling had caught the attention of other partygoers who all watched, some with reproach, others with excitement. Crowley fell onto his arse and huffed. Beez got to their feet and offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. 

“Crowley, are you going to introduce us?” Anathema asked, her alarm having faded into amusement. 

“Er, yes. Anathema Device, Beez. And this is Anathema’s husband, Newt.” 

“Pleasure.” Newt nodded, and Anathema looked Beez over thoughtfully. 

“I don’t need another Alpha,” Beez pointed out at Anathema’s look. “Don’t look at me like I’m a stray pup.” 

Anathema’s eyebrows rose at that. “It is nice to meet you, Beez.” 

“I can’t leave you alone for two seconds, can I?” Hastur appeared behind Beez, shaking his head. He was wearing patches and Crowley was a mite disappointed. “You’re already making a fuss.” 

“Look who came. You didn’t tell me Crowley was invited to this thing.” Beez gave him a look. 

“You’re lucky  _ you _ were invited to this ‘thing’.” Hastur rolled his eyes. “You patchless menace.” 

“Patches are bullshit.” 

“Yes, well, my fiance let his parents win a couple of the arguments.” Hastur shrugged. “It is a small price to pay.” 

“Sorry?” Crowley perked up at that. “Your fiance?” 

“Ligur Embers.” Hastur smirked and stood a little taller. Crowley finally got a look at his outfit, a dark suit with midnight blue accents. “And I’m soon to be Hastur Embers. The family is thrilled.” 

“I’m sure.” Crowley glanced from Hastur to Beez, then over to Anathema and Newt. “Well, this party just got a lot more interesting. Let me introduce you to Hastur, who is apparently one of our hosts.” 

“Another pleasure,” Newt said, while Anathema’s lips shifted into a grin. 

“This is going to be fantastic,” she said, reaching out her hand to offer to shake both Beez’s and Hastur’s in turn. 

“Anthony!” 

Crowley froze. He didn’t miss Newt mouthing ‘Anthony’ in question at Anathema. Crowley turned slowly toward the terribly familiar voice and watched as his mother picked across the crowd, already frowning. 

The space beside him where Aziraphale was supposed to be felt all the more obvious as he watched a storm approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday!
> 
> Come hang out with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley faces down his mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It isn't Wednesday, but a lovely friend pointed out that this fic has broken 1000 kudos!! I'm so happy that this is a story that folks enjoy reading, and I hope as we enter these (likely) last few chapters that it doesn't disappoint. 
> 
> As a huge thank you, and a shout out to a reader who was very kind, here's a bonus chapter. Chapter 19 will still come along on Wednesday, worry not. 
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> ps. I wrote another ficlet for my fearless beta, [coveredincrumb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegiftoftime/pseuds/coveredincrumb). You can find it [RIGHT HERE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23922991).

“What on earth are you doing?” His mother stopped up short of him, turning a hard look on Beez.

“Playing,” Crowley bit out, stepping between her and Beez to block them from her view. “And speaking with one of our hosts.” 

“Anthony.” Her hard gaze softened, but Crowley knew it was false. She was putting on a face. She hadn’t so much as written to him since she married him off, no doubt happy to be done with him until he had grandchildren for her to swoon over. Just looking at her after over a year made his chest ache. 

A gentle touch to his wrist reminded him he wasn’t alone at the party, Anathema stepping up beside him. “Crowley, you haven’t introduced us.” 

“Anathema, Newt, this is my mother.” 

“Daeva Crowley. You must be Anathema Device. I’ve known your mother for quite some time.” 

“You may have met her,” Anathema pointed out, managing to maintain a light and teasing tone. “But I doubt you actually knew her. She’s a bit of an enigma, that one.” 

Crowley bit back a snicker. Anathema squeezed his hand. 

“Right.” There was venom in his mother’s gaze before she turned it back on him. “Quite an interesting group you’re with tonight, dear. Where is your husband?” 

“Ill,” Crowley answered. “He regrets not being able to come.” 

“Hm.” She looked Crowley up and down and looked like she was about to say something more when someone else approached. They were average height, dressed in a waistcoat and trousers, long black hair pulled back into a messy bun. Their neck lacked scent glands, which meant they were a beta. 

“The fuck you fools doing?” They - she? - asked. 

“Dagon!” Beez grinned and immediately leapt at them. “About time you got here.” 

Crowley looked from Dagon to his mother whose lips had curled into a grimace. Good. Maybe she would leave him alone. 

“Couldn’t let you idiots have all the fun now, could I?” Dagon swung Beez around easily before setting them back on the ground. “The name’s Dagon. You must be Crowley, Beez told me about your run-in in London.” 

“Yeah, I met them there, along with Hastur and Ligur.” In the distraction, he was able to tune out his mother who began to fume at being ignored. “And these are my pack members, Anathema and Newt.” 

Anathema perked up at being referred to as a pack member and her stern look melted into a smile as she joined in the introductions. All the while, Crowley allowed his mother to remain there ignored. At least, until she grabbed his arm and tugged him. 

“Crowley, I’d like a word with you.” 

“Don’t touch him,” Anathema snarled, knocking her hand away from his arm and stepping between them. “I don’t know how you’ve missed the hint so far, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in talking with you.” 

Crowley’s mother’s lips curled into a snarl. “Excuse me, young lady, but he is my son and I’d like to have a few words with him.” 

“He’s my Omega, part of my pack, and if he doesn’t want to go with you, then he doesn’t have to.” 

“He’ll want to. Isn’t that right, darling? Anthony, please, I haven’t seen you…” 

“I don’t.” Crowley said it from behind Anathema, emboldened by her protective stance and the presence of other Omegas, and even a Beta, around him. He didn’t need to be able to smell them to know everyone was on high alert thanks to his mother’s behavior. 

There were other folks staring, too, unable to look away from two Alphas facing off at the edge of the ballroom. 

Crowley’s mother seemed to realize the attention she was drawing and stepped back, offering a placating smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Right. Of course. You’ll want to spend time with your friends. I’m sure we’ll have a chance to catch up later.” 

“Not likely,” Anathema growled. 

“Everythin’ alright here, lads and ladies and others?” Ligur’s familiar voice held a certain easy authority that allowed Crowley to relax. His mother shook her head. 

“Certainly not, Lord Embers. I was just about to go talk with Mrs. Anderson.” 

“Of course.” Ligur nodded to her and Crowley watched as his mother turned and walked away, her gait stiff, fists clenched. He would likely have to deal with her later, but for the moment he was surrounded by people who wouldn’t let her near him. 

Once she was out of earshot, Ligur stepped up to him. “You alright there, Crowley?” 

“Fine. That was my mother.” He grimaced. Ligur snorted. 

“Couldn’t tell from the way she was actin’. If she gives ya more trouble, tell me. I’ll kick ‘er out.” 

“Thank you.” Crowley offered up a sheepish smile. 

“Where’s yer mate?” 

“He, uh, is ill.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that. Glad you could still come, though. S’good ta see ya.” 

“Glad to be here. I didn’t put it together at first that this was your party.” 

Ligur flashed him a toothy grin. “Good. I like surprisin’ people.” 

“Your parents included,” Hastur grumbled. Ligur put an arm around Hastur’s waist and pulled him close, leaning in to nuzzle at his cheek. 

“They like ya more than me now, y’know.” 

“That’s because I can manage manners when I need to.” Hastur begrudgingly returned the nuzzle. 

“You’re all being gross. Crowley, Anathema, Newt, Dagon, c’mon.” Beez grabbed Dagon’s arm. “There’s amazing fucking food to eat.” 

“And you owe me at least one dance,” Dagon pointed out. 

“Fuck you.” Beez growled. “I don’t owe you shit.” 

“I beg to differ.” 

They started to walk off and Crowley offered Anathema a helpless look. She smiled. 

“Come on, Crowley. I hear they have, and I quote, ‘amazing fucking food’.” She linked their arms and started to pull him in the direction of the group. Newt joined them, and they were eventually followed by Hastur and Ligur as Crowley allowed himself to ease into the party. It was simpler with friends. 

Later in the evening, Anathema and Newt took off to join one of the dances. Dagon had dragged Beez off, too, leaving Crowley standing near the snack table once again missing Aziraphale. He would have liked the party, the people. He would have liked to see Ligur again, and they both could have enjoyed solidifying new friendships. 

They could also dance, even though Crowley wasn’t very good at it. He watched as couples and friends moved through the steps as he stuffed a tiny cake into his mouth. 

“There you are.” His mother’s voice sent terror through him and he immediately looked for Ligur, or Anathema, but they were all lost to the crowd. “ **Come** ,” his mother growled as she grabbed his arm and began to tug him out of the ballroom. 

Her command sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine and he thought for a moment he would be sick, as he tried to fight against her tightening grip and the power of an Alpha’s command. 

“Let me  _ go _ ,” Crowley hissed. 

“No. We need to speak, immediately.” 

Crowley tried to pull free even though it hurt to disobey, even as his stomach flipped and he could taste bile in the back of his throat. “Let me go!” 

“No!” She dragged him onto a patio off of one of the side lounges, the air cold around them. “What are you doing with yourself, Anthony? You’re here while your mate is at home, in rut?” 

“How do you  _ know _ that?” Crowley snapped. 

“I can smell it on you!” She snapped right back, reaching up to tug on the lapel of his suit. “You didn’t even think to wash the smell off. I bet your friends smelled it, too. Any Alpha would know it. Even the faintest whiff gives it away. Yet here you are, gallivanting around with a bunch of misfits, including other Alphas, and you’re not even marked!” 

Crowley took a step back, rage and fear and a distinct longing for Aziraphale rattling his insides. 

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to keep your husband a year with this sort of behavior.” She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “I mean, really. You’re not even trying to be a good spouse, are you? What, were you going to go home smelling like other Alphas? Like a bunch of Omegas? And then continue to ignore your husband who is suffering?” 

“Shut up, shut  _ up _ . My god, would you shut the fuck up for once in your life?” Crowley shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “You don’t  _ know _ my life with Aziraphale. You don’t know anything except your weird obsession with me having children, or me being claimed.” 

“It is the only way to keep you safe, Anthony!” 

“I don’t feel safe right now!” Crowley yelled. “I don’t feel safe with you! I feel safer with that group in there, or with Aziraphale, than I have ever felt with you. And you - you were supposed to be my first protector, and you’ve failed.”

“You wouldn’t have your husband if it weren’t for me. Those people in there? They’re thanks to  _ me _ . The only reason you’re not still locked away in a room like a spinster is because of me, you ungrateful little mutt!” 

“Shut up!” 

“No! Your marriage is at stake, do you know that? Do you think Gabriel Fell is going to be alright with the remaining heir to his family shirking his responsibility so you can romp around with a bunch of inbred, low society -” 

Crowley snarled and the sound filled the courtyard. He ripped his patches off, because he wanted his mother to smell him. He wanted her to know his anger. Around them, the crickets were silent. The air rippled with the tension. “Don’t you dare speak about them like that.” 

“Anthony,” she growled. “I am your mother and you will listen to me -” 

“No, he won’t.” Ligur stepped onto the patio, posture stiff, bright gold eyes gleaming in the moonlight. “Mrs. Crowley, I think it is about time you take your leave.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“As the host of this party, and Lord of this estate, I’m askin’ you to leave.” Ligur took measured steps forward, nudging between Crowley and his mother. Crowley trembled but was grateful to duck his head and hide behind the Alpha. 

“You’re not Lord yet,” she started, and Ligur cut her off. 

“I am, as of my engagement, acting Lord. But I ain’t interested in talking about the specifics with you. I’ve asked you to leave, so  _ leave _ .” 

Crowley’s mother looked as if she were about to argue but she swallowed what little pride she had left and turned on her heel to exit the patio. She disappeared into the house and Crowley wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. Shit. She was angry, and mean, and he’d yelled at her -

There were hands on his shoulders then, steadying him. He could smell a familiar smoke smell that reminded him of his own scent, but as opposed to cinnamon, it was mixed with something savory, like unsweetened pumpkin. It was a strange scent, but it was an Alpha’s scent, and a calming one at that.

“I know I’m not yer Alpha, but I thought it might help ya.” 

“T-thanks.” Crowley took deep breaths and Ligur ran his hands up and down Crowley’s upper arms. 

“‘Here.” Ligur removed his suit jacket and draped it over Crowley’s shoulders. “Why don’t we step into the sittin’ room and I’ll see if I can find Anathema?” 

Crowley shook his head. “Stay here for a little bit longer.” 

“Right. ‘Course.” Ligur stepped closer, his scent even stronger, and though he was a few inches shorter than Crowley he seemed larger than life. Crowley closed his eyes and leaned his head forward onto Ligur’s shoulder. 

“She seems like a right bitch,” Ligur murmured and Crowley laughed. 

“You have no idea. How did you know we were out here?” 

“Heard yellin’, then I smelled ya. You were distressed, so I came to help. She’s really yer mum?” 

Crowley nodded against his shoulder. “Unfortunately.” 

“That shit she was spewin’ about your marriage. I hope ya know it is bullshit. I saw and smelled the way your husband felt about ya. He loves ya.” 

Crowley thought about Aziraphale at home, alone, and he blinked back tears as he was bowled over by a wave of emotion. “I know. And I left him at home to suffer through rut.” 

Ligur shrugged. “He’ll live.” 

“Easy enough for you to say.” 

“As someone who has had to live through many ruts alone, yeah, easy enough.” 

Crowley finally stepped back and met Ligur’s gaze. “But did you have a mate? While you were spending them alone?” 

“Yeah. Early on, Hastur didn’t want ta risk it. We’d heard sometimes it could trigger an Omega’s heat. Turns out that’s mostly a load of bollocks.” He shrugged. “Hastur has been spendin’ my ruts with me fer years now and not one has triggered a heat, thanks to suppressants.” 

“Really?” Crowley found it difficult to believe. All he’d ever heard was that there were risks, even on suppressants, of heat being triggered. 

“As I live, yeah,” Ligur offered up a lopsided smile. “Even claimed him a couple years into our relationship, and it didn’t change the biology. Just brought us closer, I think.” 

“Oh.” Crowley allowed the information to sink in, and then realized he was really shivering. It had grown cold outside. “I think I’m ready to go inside now.” 

“C’mon then, luv.” Ligur escorted him inside and left him standing in the sitting room to seek out Anathema. A few moments later Anathema and Newt were in the room, Anathema tearing the patches off her neck as she stepped up and immediately nuzzled along Crowley’s jaw and cheek. 

Crowley nuzzled into her in return, letting the scent of warm earth ease his remaining anxiety. He enjoyed the rumbling growl in Anathema’s chest and melted into her embrace when it was offered. 

“I’ll kick her ass,” Anathema grumbled. “I swear.” 

“I’m okay,” Crowley insisted. “I’ll be okay.” 

Newt’s sweet citrus scent joined with Anathema’s as he stood near them. “If I might say so, your mother is horrible.” 

Crowley started laughing and he buried his face against Anathema’s neck as it overtook him. When he got his breath back he shook his head. “You don’t know the half of it.” 

“Oi, Crowley.” Beez stepped into the room and Crowley glanced up. “Your carriage is out front, and I can escort you around the side to it. Thought you might not want to walk back through the ballroom.” 

“Oh.” Crowley glanced between Anathema and Newt. “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined your night.” 

“Shut up.” Anathema smacked his shoulder. “Your mother ruined it, but we still had fun before she decided to be a massive bitch. Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Beez, along with Dagon, led them out through the patio and around the grounds. 

“Can you give this back to Ligur?” He shrugged the jacket off his shoulders. 

“Keep it.” Ligur appeared, Hastur standing beside him. “Return it to me when ya visit next time, with Aziraphale.” 

Crowley tugged it back up around his shoulders. “He’ll like that. So will I. Thank you.” 

Ligur shrugged and smiled. 

“Don’t be strangers,” Hastur insisted. “The wedding isn’t until the spring, but you’re welcome to drop by. We’ll be here, along with these fools.” He motioned to Beez and Dagon. 

“Who’re you calling a fool,” Beez grumbled. 

“Goodnight, everyone. Thank you.” Crowley looked at each of them in turn before he was helped into the carriage. Instead of spreading out, he was sandwiched between Newt and Anathema who both seemed determined to scent him until he couldn’t even smell himself. He returned their nuzzles and, finding exhaustion dogging him, nuzzled his face into Newt’s shoulder and drifted off with Ligur’s coat draped over him. 

“We’re home,” Anathema said as she nudged him awake. He sighed and buried his face even further into Newt’s jacketed shoulder. It was easier to sleep. “Come on, sleepyhead. If you don’t come yourself, I’ll have Newt carry you.” 

He decided to spare himself the humiliation of being carried and, with Ligur’s jacket around him, clamored out of the carriage. Newt and Anathema followed, all three weary travellers making their way into the house. 

“Do you want us to stay?” Anathema asked as Crowley toed off his boots. 

“Yeah.” Crowley offered up a tired smile. “Your driver can take up in one of the empty rooms, or he can go back to your estate. Whichever works.” 

“I’ll have him go home. We’ll send a runner if we need him.” Newt disappeared back out the door, leaving Crowley with Anathema. 

He took a few deep breaths, her earthy smell filling the space around them. “I want to spend the night with Aziraphale.” 

“Oh?” Anathema’s eyebrows rose. 

Crowley nodded. What Ligur had said to him, about spending ruts with Hastur, stuck out in his mind. If he could be with Aziraphale without the risk of bringing a child into the world, why wouldn’t he? And even if there was a risk…

“Do you still want us to stay?” Anathema asked. 

“I think I want you to stay because of that choice.” Crowley huffed a laugh, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “Just in case.” 

“Right.” Anathema looked him over and then pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry about your mother.” 

“Me too.” Crowley returned the hug, nuzzled her until his scent was left behind, and then stepped away. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Anathema smiled, looking as if he’d just made a joke. “Doubtful, but let me know.” 

Crowley shook his head and made his way up the stairs. He left Ligur’s jacket in the guest room he had planned to stay in, and then shed his clothes down to his undershirt and trousers. The smell of his pack still clung to him, but it was Aziraphale’s pack, too. Surely it wouldn’t upset him. 

He padded down the hallway and paused in front of the door. He gazed down at the handle, all too aware that he could turn back. Strangely enough, his anxiety about all of it was merely background noise beneath the intense feeling of want that pulsed through him. He wanted his mate. He wanted to be near his husband. 

So Crowley opened the door and stepped into the den, closing it behind him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, the moon barely illuminating any of the room. He walked over to the bed and stripped the rest of the way, down to his underwear, and tried not to allow the heavy smell of rut make him too terribly dizzy. It was a wonderful scent, but one he wanted to bury himself in. 

“Crowley.” Aziraphale sat up just as Crowley crawled onto the bed. He settled on his knees beside Aziraphale and leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. 

“Aziraphale.” Burned sugar filled his nose and his whole world became focused on the smell of hot caramel with the faintest hint of vanilla. Aziraphale tilted his head and nuzzled their noses together before he rubbed along Crowley’s jaw and neck. The scent was sharp and bloomed around them, mixing with Crowley’s cinnamon and fire. 

“You’re upset.” Aziraphale put his arms around Crowley and tugged him close, putting Crowley in a slightly awkward position. Seeming to realize it, Aziraphale laid back and tugged Crowley on top of him. Crowley went willingly, nosing up under Aziraphale’s jaw and rubbing his own scent on his Alpha. Their combined scents made him warm, his insides melting into a mess of love and desire. 

“My mother was at the party.” 

Aziraphale growled, a hand coming to rest possessively on the nape of Crowley’s neck. Crowley sighed, letting the warmth of Aziraphale’s body seep into his and soothe him. 

“She was terrible, and I don’t really want to talk about it.” 

“That’s alright.” Aziraphale slid the hand on his neck up into his hair and massaged his scalp with his fingertips. “You’re here, with me now. You’re mine.” Aziraphale rolled them, pressing Crowley into the bed beneath him. It was then that he realized Aziraphale was completely naked and he peered down his body to see where Aziraphale could rut against his thigh. 

“Yours.” Crowley reached up to run his fingers through Aziraphale’s curls. They were heavy with sweat, and he pressed the back of his hand to Aziraphale’s cheek. “You’re so warm.” 

“It is the rut.” Aziraphale ground his hips against Crowley’s thigh, as if to demonstrate.

“I’m glad I run cold.” 

Aziraphale huffed and kissed Crowley’s nose, then pressed one between his eyes. “Oh, I missed you, darling.” 

“I was only gone for the day.” 

“And that was far too long.” Aziraphale brushed his lips to Crowley’s in a soft kiss. “All I’ve done is think about you.” 

“Oh? I would certainly hope so…” 

“Mmhm.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek, then his jaw, before descending to leave a trail of kisses over Crowley’s throat. He got to his pulse and licked it before he bit down gently, sending shivering pleasure coursing down Crowley’s spine. He whined and Aziraphale answered with a growl. 

“Tell me what you thought about.” 

“This.” He bit him again. “And this.” He kissed the bite. “I thought about taking you into my mouth until you came down my throat, and fucking you into the bed until you came again.” 

“Shit, Alpha.” Crowley dragged him into a kiss, Aziraphale growling into it. Crowley opened his mouth and Aziraphale’s tongue met his as they spiraled into a world of searing heat. Crowley buried his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair and held him close, groping down with his other hand to pat Aziraphale’s hip in an attempt to guide him. 

“Do you want this?” Aziraphale asked, breathless, as he shifted his hips so he could grind his cock against Crowley’s, separated by the thin fabric of his underwear. 

“Yessss, fuck.” Crowley kissed him again and again, shuddering as he grew hard and pleasure rolled through him. 

“Then why did you keep your underwear on?” Aziraphale teased, nosing over to nip at his earlobe. 

“Wasn’t sure you’d be awake.” 

“Well then.” Aziraphale pulled back and sat on Crowley’s thighs. He ran a hand from his chest down over his belly, before bringing both hands to the hem of Crowley’s underwear. He tugged at it, biting his lower lip, revealing sharp canines that came in during an Alpha’s rut. The sight of them made Crowley squirm and blue eyes flicked up, only for a pleased smile to follow suit. “I’ll take care of these, hm?” 

“Sure,” Crowley said with a breathless laugh. “You might need to get off my legs first, though.” 

Aziraphale’s eyes flashed and Crowley didn’t even get a chance to react until the tear of fabric filled the room and his cock lay freed against his belly. Aziraphale ripped his underwear open, and continued to rip them until they were shreds beneath him. 

“Shit.” Sometimes he forgot just how strong Aziraphale was, made stronger by rut. “Alpha, kiss me.” 

“I plan to do a lot more than that.” But Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him, sharp canines teasing against Crowley’s lower lip. Crowley returned it, happy to lose himself in the sensations and his proximity to his Alpha. 

Then, Aziraphale stopped. He dropped his forehead to the pillow beside Crowley’s head and groaned. 

“Crowley.” 

“Aziraphale?” He laid a hand against the back of Aziraphale’s neck. 

“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale grumbled, turning to rub his cheek against Crowley’s scent gland. “You’re with me, when I’m in rut.” It was as if a veil had been torn away and Aziraphale realized what he was doing. 

“I love you,” Crowley whispered. “And I want to be with you.” 

“But your heat…” 

“I won’t go into heat, Aziraphale.” He ran the pads of his fingers over the soft curls at the base of Aziraphale’s neck. “I promise.” 

“And if you do? I don’t...I’ve never  _ been _ with an Omega in heat.” 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. If we get to it, which we won’t.” 

Aziraphale locked eyes with him and looked as if he were fighting a war. It was right there, in his blue eyes, all the uncertainty and a bit of fear that Crowley wasn’t used to seeing. “I want you, Alpha. All of you. I’m okay.” 

Aziraphale closed his eyes and exhaled slowly before he opened them again and began peppering Crowley’s face with kisses. “Let me have you.” 

“You can have me.” 

“Omega…” Aziraphale growled and looked pained when he pulled away. Crowley was concerned, until he felt hands on him, flipping him onto his stomach. He was pulled up onto his knees but when he tried to rise up on his elbows, Aziraphale’s hand laid between his shoulder blades and held him down. “Stay.” 

“Yes, Alpha.” Crowley shivered, not needing an Alpha’s commands to want to listen. He was rewarded with Aziraphale’s mouth against his back, warm and thoughtful, along with the scrape of sharp teeth that were bound to leave marks wherever he bit down. 

When Aziraphale kissed down to his tailbone, his broad hands spread Crowley’s cheeks and he realized for the first time since entering the room that he was slick. He shivered as Aziraphale’s fingers smeared it around, before one slid in and Crowley moaned with it. It wasn’t like it was when he was in heat, but something about the smell of rut around him seemed to have an effect on his body. 

He pressed back into the finger and Aziraphale made a pleased sound, working it in and out in a way that was almost torture. Then, the finger was gone altogether and it was Aziraphale’s tongue that replaced it. Crowley yelped, his hips jerking in response, before he pressed back against Aziraphale’s hot, wet tongue. “Alpha,” he whimpered. “Please.” 

Aziraphale answered him by giving him more, eating him out with a vigor he hadn’t employed before. Crowley’s cock ached between his legs as he curled his fingers in the sheets and ground back against Aziraphale’s tongue. When Aziraphale’s mouth left him he let out a pathetic keen and Aziraphale shushed him, three fingers sliding in without issue. 

“You’re so slick,” Aziraphale rumbled. “All for me.” 

“All for you,” Crowley echoed, lost to the gentle rhythm of Aziraphale’s fingers. Then they were gone, leaving him painfully empty as his arse clenched around nothing. He whimpered, but Aziraphale’s hand soothed up his back and held him down as the head of his cock pressed in. Crowley tried to arch his back and enjoyed the way Aziraphale flexed back against him, continuing to hold him down. 

His brain went offline as Aziraphale slid into him, and when Crowley came back to himself he was full of his Alpha and already moving his hips back to fuck himself on Aziraphale’s cock. 

“Eager,” Aziraphale breathed out, one hand remaining against Crowley’s back while the other laid against his hip. “That’s right, Omega. Look at you. You’re slick and open for me. You’re mine. Oh, I love you.” It was Aziraphale’s turn to whine as he began to meet Crowley’s movements, their skin slapping together. Crowley was jolted with every thrust, all too aware of the way Aziraphale’s knot slid in and out of him without a second thought. 

He gripped the sheets and then scrambled for another hold, trying to counter the overwhelming pleasure rolling over and through him. He couldn’t escape it, lost to Aziraphale’s cock, and the Alpha eventually removed his hand and leaned over him instead. Aziraphale’s hands came to rest over Crowley’s, smoothing them out, lacing their fingers together as he thrust mercilessly into Crowley. 

“Alpha, please, please, fuck, harder. Yes.” Crowley laid his forehead against the sheets as his entire body rocked with the power of Aziraphale’s thrusts. Burning sugar and caramel engulfed him, his mind rioting in the best way possible as he gave himself over. There was nothing else to do but give in and he lived for each thrust and each delicious grind of Aziraphale’s hips. 

His world went white very suddenly and he shouted, more than sure the whole household could hear him, because the shout turned into a startled howl. Aziraphale’s voice joined his as he knotted Crowley, continuing to rut into him as he spilled, his own shout rolling into a growl before he stilled against Crowley’s back. 

They both panted in the darkness, Crowley trying to mentally grab onto anything that wasn’t the tsunami of pleasure that kept threatening to drag him down. His Alpha’s thumb stroked over his and he realized that he was murmuring soft reassurances into Crowley’s ear. 

“My darling, you’re so beautiful. You’re alright. I’ve got you. Look at all of this mess, it is all for me, isn’t it? I love you so much.” And on, and on, until Crowley was nothing but a boneless puddle beneath his Alpha. He whined quietly and his Alpha soothed him, guiding him so they were spooned together. 

“Aziraphale,” he mumbled, and Aziraphale hummed. He kissed his cheek and found one of his hands, lacing their fingers together. 

“I’m right here, my dear.” 

“Fuckin’ hope so. We’re attached.” 

Aziraphale laughed, then kissed him behind the ear. “Rest.” 

“Don’t wanna.” 

“Then don’t rest,” Aziraphale huffed. 

“Mmph.” Crowley smiled and squeezed Aziraphale’s hand before he pressed back as close as he could get, desperate for touch. “You ripped my pants.” 

“I did. They were in the way.” 

“They’re in tatters now.” 

“I already tossed them off the bed, so there’s no need to worry.” 

“I liked those.” 

“Oh, you did not.” Aziraphale nipped his earlobe. “Go to sleep, Omega. You’re in for a lot more of this in a few hours.” 

“A few  _ hours _ ?” Crowley groaned. He wasn’t sure he’d have his brain back by then. He wasn’t even sure his cock could get hard again after that. 

“Only if you’re willing,” Aziraphale amended. “But I promise you’ll like it.” 

“I believe you.” 

“I love you, Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered, breath warm against his ear. “My Omega, my love, and my husband.” 

Crowley melted and closed his eyes. “I love you too.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday! Except when I hit a kudo milestone. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/) and let me keep you company during quarantine. Also if you have good turnip prices next Wednesday hit me up on Animal Crossing C:


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale spend some intimate time together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Wednesday, my darling dears. Thanks for being so excited with me over the bonus chapter I posted earlier this week! 
> 
> You may have noticed...this fic is going to have 21 chapters. I'm quite certain I'm about to wrap it with this last chapter I have to write. But worry not, I'm already in the planning stages of a second (probably shorter) one that deals with the idea of biological family. 
> 
> I hope everyone is keeping well in this surreal world. Even though the virus threat remains it feels like we're all getting a bit complacent...but I don't know. I don't know what comes next. Which is why I'm grateful to have Wednesdays with all of you, and to be able to share my stories!
> 
> Enjoy.

Later that morning, Crowley jerked awake with a keen sense of discomfort. He was damp between his legs and made a face. 

“Shh.” Aziraphale kissed his hair and rubbed his hip. “You’re alright.” 

“Alpha?” Crowley shivered and Aziraphale shushed him again. 

“I’m right here. Come here.” Aziraphale’s hand slid to rub at his thigh and Crowley groaned, realizing even half-asleep, Aziraphale’s burning rut scent had him hard and wanting. Aziraphale’s cock brushed against him from behind, equally hard. 

“Again, Alpha,” Crowley mumbled. He felt Aziraphale shudder against him. 

“Yes…” Aziraphale guided one of Crowley’s legs up. “Keep this here for a moment.” 

“Mm.” Crowley obeyed, his body like liquid. Everything was hazy and he knew he could trust Aziraphale. In a moment, with an easy slide, Aziraphale was inside of him again. He guided Crowley’s leg back down but continued to grasp his thigh as he began to thrust. 

“You’re beautiful,” Aziraphale growled, pressing a kiss beneath his ear, then leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses along his neck. “And mine.” 

“Yours,” Crowley echoed, not quite awake enough to do anything except chase the comfort of Aziraphale’s body pressed up against his, and the delightful sensation of being connected. Aziraphale’s thrusts were more like easy rolls of his hips and Crowley didn’t mind the gentler pace. He closed his eyes and without meaning to, he started to purr. 

“Oh.” Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s shoulder and continued his easy pace, his hand slipping down to stroke Crowley along with it. Crowley shuddered, unsure if he could come again despite being hard, but he pressed into the points of contact anyway. He was overwhelmed with love, fuzzy, gooey, candyfloss love, as Aziraphale took him and held him. 

He was safe. For what seemed to be the first time in his life, he knew he was really, truly safe. 

His orgasm was a slow roll, like Aziraphale’s hips. He came all over Aziraphale’s fingers with a whimper before he went boneless, enjoying the motion of Aziraphale’s thrusts until his Alpha stilled and knotted him again. Aziraphale nuzzled along his neck and jaw, making a pleased growling sound that sounded like an attempt at purring. 

Crowley smiled and continued his hiccuping purr. “‘Love you.” 

“Mm.” Aziraphale kissed the hinge of his jaw, and then his ear. “Rest.” 

Crowley didn’t need to be told twice as he drifted back to sleep. 

Upon awakening the next time he realized he was uncomfortable and empty again, but Aziraphale was a dead weight against his back. He shuddered as he moved, sore and painfully aware of how gross their sheets were. When he tried to sit up, Aziraphale growled and tugged him closer, nose pressed into his hair. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured, patting the arm around his waist that kept him pinned to the bed. “Hey. Alpha. Wake up.” He patted him again and heard Aziraphale snort awake. It was endearing, really, and he would take time to savor it if it weren’t for the cum drying between his legs. 

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale mumbled, voice heavy with sleep as he resumed his idle nuzzling. Crowley could hardly smell Aziraphale anymore, he was so inundated with his scent. He didn’t mind, rubbing his hand over Aziraphale’s fuzzy arm. 

“I’m filthy,” Crowley pointed out. Aziraphale growled again and nipped his ear. 

“You’re mine.” 

“Yes, and I’m filthy.” Crowley huffed a laugh. “I didn’t know Alphas in rut were so gross.” 

“It isn’t  _ gross _ .” Aziraphale’s tone was on the edge of petulant. “It...well.” He sounded more awake now and seemed to be realizing the puddle of ick they were settled in. “Alright, perhaps a little.” 

“I want to bathe.” Crowley tried to get up again and this time, Aziraphale’s growl had an edge of displeasure. “What?” 

“You stay in the nest,” Aziraphale grumbled into Crowley’s shoulder before he bit it, grazing his teeth over the skin. “I’ll draw us a bath.” 

“In the nest?” Crowley teased. 

“In the bathroom, you fiend.” 

“I’ll have to leave the nest.” 

“Don’t remind me.” Aziraphale kissed where he’d bitten, and then very reluctantly released Crowley. He stood and Crowley got a good look at him in the morning light. His eyes trailed over the pale fuzz on his chest all the way down to his cock which was miraculously still hard, the knot partially swollen. 

“Ah.” Crowley swallowed, shifting to sit up and scooting to the edge of the bed. Aziraphale glanced over in his direction, lips curling into a warning snarl. Crowley held up his hands. “I’m not going to leave the bed.” 

Aziraphale prowled back over to him as Crowley held out his hands and pulled Aziraphale by the hips so he stood between his legs. “Do you ever go soft?” 

Aziraphale glanced down at his own cock and then at Crowley, shrugging. “The knot does, obviously. The rest of me...less so. At least not for another day, probably. Then there are more breaks in between, but the knot is what bothers me the most.” 

“Oh?” Crowley leaned in and pressed a kiss to the soft padding at Aziraphale’s hip, and then kissed along his belly.He trailed kisses down to the scar on Aziraphale’s thigh, brushing his lips over it.

“Omega?” Aziraphale asked, one of his hands making itself at home in the mess of Crowley’s hair. “I thought you wanted a bath.” 

“I’ll still need one.” Crowley trailed his open mouth over to the base of his cock. With his hand he grabbed the length of him, stroking and taking pride in the way Aziraphale shuddered in his grasp. Then he leaned in and tongued the half-swollen knot. 

Aziraphale growled but didn’t stop him. Crowley followed the swell of it with his tongue, tracing it, before he put his mouth around it and sucked. Aziraphale moaned and tightened his hand in Crowley’s hair, holding him there. Crowley did everything he could to suck and lap at the swollen bump, enjoying the desperate noises it drew from Aziraphale. He kept stroking him, too, and then with a garbled snarl Aziraphale came. Crowley could feel it on his hand and on his forehead, sliding down his nose. 

He closed his eyes and moved both hands back to Aziraphale’s hips, enjoying the soft little sounds Aziraphale kept making as he came. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Aziraphale purred, smearing cum along Crowley’s cheek with his thumb. “And now you’re really a mess. Wait here a moment.” 

Crowley missed Aziraphale’s warmth but remained seated on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed. He jumped when fabric dragged across his face, wiping off the worst of the mess. 

“There, you can open your eyes now.” 

Crowley did so and gazed up at Aziraphale. He couldn’t help but smile in response to the look of utter adoration on Aziraphale’s face. 

“Now, I ought to see about drawing that bath, hm?” 

“Yes, please.” Crowley accepted a peck on the lips before Aziraphale pulled on a robe and disappeared out the door. He remained seated as instructed, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looked an absolute mess, cum still streaked across his cheek and other parts of his face. His hair was awry, too, from eager fingers combing through it. 

He looked at the doorway when Aziraphale returned and watched as his Alpha padded over to the dresser and pulled out what appeared to be another soft robe. He walked over to Crowley and held it out. “Come on.” 

Crowley stood and allowed Aziraphale to stuff him into the robe and herd him out of their room and into the large washroom in the hallway. He wasn’t allowed to take the robe off, because when he tried, Aziraphale batted his hands away and tugged it off of him himself. 

“Fussy,” Crowley mumbled. Aziraphale growled and put an arm around Crowley’s waist, dragging him back against him. The fabric of Aziraphale’s robe was surprisingly nice against his back. 

“Yes.” Aziraphale kissed down his neck and laid a possessive hand over his belly, fingers running along the soft red trail of hair there. “Very fussy, when it comes to you.” 

Crowley never expected an Alpha in rut could be so cheesy. 

“What?” Aziraphale asked, breath warm against his skin. 

“You’re ridiculous, that’s all.” 

Aziraphale grumbled something under his breath and finally stepped away. “Get in the bath.” 

“Make me,” Crowley shot back. 

Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose as he slipped his robe off and then crossed the distance between them in a flash, lifting Crowley up and setting him on his feet inside of the large tub. Crowley squealed, immediately offended by the undignified sound of it, and he glared at Aziraphale who was smiling. 

“You’re an arse.” 

“Perhaps next time you’ll listen.” Aziraphale shot back, all prim and pleased. 

“Are you going to join me?” Crowley finally sank into the warm water and let out a pleased little noise. The water was nice on his sore muscles. 

“Mmhm.” Except Aziraphale didn’t get in behind him like he usually did. Instead, he stepped in between Crowley’s legs and then sank into the water on his knees. Crowley’s legs bracketed him, and Aziraphale snagged a wash cloth off of a tray beside the bath that Crowley finally noticed. It had little bottles on it, and a bar of soap, along with the cloth. 

Aziraphale grabbed the bar of soap first and made sure the cloth was sudsy before putting it back. He lifted Crowley’s right arm and started to run the cloth over it. 

“You’re going to really wash me?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale tilted his head and smiled, looking a bit confused. 

“Of course I am. I’ve made a mess of you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Do you not want me to?” Somehow, Aziraphale looked hurt by the very idea that Crowley was displeased. 

“No, no. I do. It just...it surprised me. That’s all.” 

“You’re my mate,” Aziraphale pointed out, as if it were the most obvious thing. “This is...this is what you do for your mate.” 

“Okay.” Crowley ignored the heat in his cheeks as Aziraphale continued his gentle attentions, running soap up each of his arms, and then down his chest until the cloth disappeared into the water. He ran it along the inside of Crowley’s thighs, along his soft cock, and then down along his arse. 

He occasionally spent time rinsing the cloth, shifting around until Crowley leaned forward enough for him to wash his back. It was oddly nice, being fussed over like this. It was different from the other baths they had shared, far more intimate somehow. More thoughtful, certainly. 

Once his body was relatively clean, and the water filthy, Aziraphale grabbed a new cloth and washed the gunk off of Crowley’s face. Then he drained the tub, and started to refill it from the warm water tap they’d had installed. It was a nice change from the fuss of drawing a bath before, and soon enough it was filled again with warm water. 

They changed positioned once Aziraphale was clean, Crowley sitting between Aziraphale’s legs so he could lean back into his embrace. They snuggled in the warm water, exchanging idle passes of scent oil and soft nuzzles. 

Crowley could get used to it. 

As the water grew colder, Aziraphale insisted on washing Crowley’s hair lest they have to draw another bath. Crowley submitted to the continuation of his fussing, letting Aziraphale massage shampoo and some sort of lavender oil into his hair before rinsing it out. Crowley wondered if the lavender had been chosen on purpose. Then, Aziraphale braided his wet hair and tied it back. 

They got out and dried off, Aziraphale once more refusing to let Crowley do anything. They wrapped the robes back around themselves and returned to the den. Their sheets had been changed, the nest otherwise set back to rights. Crowley glanced at Aziraphale. 

“I hope you give Madame Tracy more money when you’re in rut,” he pointed out. “Those sheets were disgusting.” 

“Believe me, she is well compensated. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” 

“You’d have to change your own sheets, for one.” 

“That I would.” Aziraphale slid the robe off of Crowley’s shoulders and dumped it in a hamper, before he removed his own and did the same. Then, he persuaded Crowley back to bed with warm kisses and wandering hands, Crowley content to be guided into Aziraphale’s lap as they kissed. Aziraphale cupped Crowley’s face in his hands, tilting his head to kiss beneath his chin, then down his throat. 

Crowley’s breath hitched as an unasked request came to his lips. He hesitated before finally getting it out. “Aziraphale?” 

“Mmhm?” Aziraphale nipped his pulse. 

“Bond with me.”

Aziraphale froze, head still tucked up beneath Crowley’s chin. His curls tickled Crowley’s skin. “Crowley?” 

“Aziraphale.” 

Aziraphale finally looked at him, frowning. He ran his thumb over Crowley’s cheekbone, searching his eyes for something. Crowley wasn’t sure what. It seemed they were doing a lot of that lately. 

“It isn’t because of whatever happened between you and your mother last night, is it?” 

Crowley sighed. Of course Aziraphale would want to talk about it. It seemed their earlier activities had soothed him enough to chase away the haze of rut for both of them. Now they had to have serious conversations. Ugh. Crowley wasn’t a fan. 

“Angel…” 

“Crowley. My love.” Aziraphale kissed his nose and then grew serious. “I don’t want this to be done out of obligation, or for the wrong reasons. I want to make sure you’re…” He hesitated and glanced away. “That you really want  _ me _ to be the one to bond with you.” 

“Aziraphale, that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Of course I want it to be  _ you _ . Did you think there could be anyone else? After everything?” Crowley tilted his head to follow his eyes, trying to find eye contact again. Aziraphale gave it to him, uncertainty written across his face. “I love you.” 

“And I love you, but if this ends up being a mistake...if you regret it, once I’m over my rut, and once whatever your mother said fades, I don’t think I could live -” 

Crowley cut him off with a fierce kiss. He bit his lower lip hard enough to hurt and Aziraphale made an unhappy noise. Then Crowley pulled back and glowered at him. “I want you because I love you, and you will never be a mistake.” 

Aziraphale looked uncertain and Crowley sighed and leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Come on, Alpha,” he murmured against his skin. “Take what’s yours so no one else ever can.” 

Aziraphale shuddered and pulled Crowley into a kiss that was all heat and softness. He cradled Crowley’s face in his hands and sighed against his mouth. It was a yes, Crowley assumed, and he found he was excited by the prospect. Before, the thought of being claimed left him disturbed, sickened. Now? Now, there was nothing he wanted more than to have a mark on his neck that matched the one he’d left on Aziraphale’s thigh. 

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered between kisses, his hands moving from Crowley’s face to slide down his back. Crowley shivered with it, gooseflesh left in the wake of Aziraphale’s soft touches. Aziraphale’s hands explored his back, fingertips pressing into the muscles along his spine. Then he palmed his arse, bringing their hips together, and Crowley groaned as his half hard cock brushed against Aziraphale’s. 

“I know, angel. I love you, too.” Crowley rolled his hips to bring their cocks together again, shuddering. “How do you want to do this?” 

“Mm.” Aziraphale kissed his chin and smiled into it. “Like this…” His fingers dipped between Crowley’s arse cheeks, finding slickness that he circled before sliding a finger in. Crowley groaned, enjoying the pressure and push, working down onto Aziraphale’s finger. 

“Might need lube,” Crowley admitted. It was the second day of Aziraphale’s rut but his scent wasn’t having quite the same impact. 

“Alright.” Aziraphale’s finger slipped out of him and he leaned over to the nightstand, grabbing the familiar jar they kept there. He unscrewed it, glancing at Crowley who was happy to watch as he slicked up his fingers. He slid them back down to Crowley and pressed two in. 

Crowley’s breath hitched and his hips stuttered. “Shit, angel.” He rocked back against the fingers, slotting their mouths together for a messy kiss. Aziraphale growled and nipped Crowley’s lip before indulging the kiss, his tongue hot and lovely in Crowley’s mouth. 

As Aziraphale continued to open him up, his mouth left Crowley’s and he left open mouthed kisses down his neck. His tongue was just as wonderful against his skin as it had been in his mouth and Crowley rocked back against Aziraphale’s fingers as one became two. All the while, Aziraphale’s mouth found his nipple and dragged his tongue over it, giving the other the same attention, sending little sparks of pleasure straight to Crowley’s core. 

Two fingers finally became three and Crowley got impatient, whining and tugging Aziraphale back into a kiss. Aziraphale huffed a laugh and started to guide Crowley into a wider stance, still straddling Aziraphale’s lap.

“Facing me, or facing away?” Aziraphale asked. He sounded out of breath. 

“Facing you.” Crowley didn’t think he could handle not being able to see Aziraphale’s eyes. “I want to see you.” 

“Good.” Aziraphale guided the head of his cock against Crowley and rubbed it slowly back and forth over him, teasing. 

“Alpha,” Crowley chided, pushing down a little. “Please.” 

“How could I say no to that?” Aziraphale guided his cock into him and Crowley keened, grateful to be full again. Aziraphale’s hands rested on his hips and guided him until he was fully seated on his cock, the start of his knot butting against his rim. He squirmed, but Aziraphale tutted and guided him back up before he was allowed to slide back down. That time, the knot slid in and out of him and Crowley had the distinct desire to rut against it and keep it buried inside of him. 

“Alpha, please,” Crowley whined, one of Aziraphale’s hands sliding up his back. He moved his hips and Aziraphale hummed and kissed him, letting Crowley set the pace. He rolled his hips, and when he bottomed out he ground down on Aziraphale before pulling up off of him again. It was overwhelming and wonderful, his thighs beginning to ache with the movements. “Oh, please, more.” 

Aziraphale stilled him and then began to move his hips up in short little thrusts, punching the air out of Crowley who fought to catch his breath as he rocked into each thrust. “Yes, yes, yeah, oh, fuck.” He reached down to stroke himself but Aziraphale snarled and knocked his hand away, his own fingers wrapping around him. 

“Mine,” Aziraphale growled, kissing down to Crowley’s pulse and sucking on the skin there. 

“Yours,” Crowley breathed, barely able to keep any sense of rhythm as Aziraphale thrust up into him. Their movements became wild and frantic, Crowley’s fingernails digging into Aziraphale’s shoulders as he held on to him for stability. With a few more thrusts, Aziraphale was buried inside of him and caught, and Crowley finally had the chance to grind down against him with his knot pressed inside. 

“Oh fuck, oh,” Crowley gasped as he continued to chase the wonderful sensation of Aziraphale spilling inside of him, filling him, a solid presence all around him. Crowley was still hard, Aziraphale’s hand a tight fist around him as his mouth finally came to rest over the bump of nerves at the base of his throat, not too far above his collarbone. 

Aziraphale’s canines grazed the bump, sharp teeth offering what Crowley had asked for. He couldn’t imagine what it was like to have an extra pair of teeth up in his gums, waiting to come down. They were meant for this moment - for a claim. So an Alpha could leave a clear, clean mark over the bonding nerve. He whimpered, one of his hands moving to Aziraphale’s hair, fingers tangling in his curls. 

“Please, Alpha.” 

“Omega.” Aziraphale breathed the word reverently against his skin and kissed the spot, then lapped at it with his tongue. It was the worst sort of tease, the kind that kept Crowley on the edge without allowing him to tip over. Aziraphale’s hand on him had slowed as he seemed to consider his next move. 

Without saying anything, Crowley’s world was suddenly an explosion of pain and pleasure as Aziraphale’s teeth sank into his skin. He cried out, sparks dancing behind his eyelids as the pressure of Aziraphale’s bite became the center of his universe. Crowley was certain he thrashed, almost sure he had yanked on Aziraphale’s hair, but Aziraphale kept him in place with his arms around him. It was a steady hold, one that reminded Crowley just how strong Aziraphale was. He kept his mouth locked on him until Crowley went boneless, slumping against his Alpha with a whimper. 

Then, and only then, did Aziraphale release the bite. Crowley could smell blood and he whined, Aziraphale’s warm tongue working over the wound. There was a deep rumbling in Aziraphale’s chest and a certain possessive strength in the arms that were around Crowley’s waist. 

“Alpha?” Crowley asked, voice shaking. He sniffled and realized there were tears in his eyes. He hadn’t expected it to hurt quite that much, nor had he expected everything to crash around him until he was nothing but an empty shell. He was exhausted, sore, and in love, warm and desperate to stay close to Aziraphale. 

“I’m right here,” Aziraphale murmured into his ear. “And I won’t leave you.” 

“Good. Stay.” Crowley put his arms around Aziraphale’s shoulders and held onto him, even as the world tilted and they ended up on their sides. Aziraphale dragged Crowley’s hips forward, keeping him close so that the knot inside of him wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He draped a leg over Aziraphale’s hip and tucked his head up under his chin. 

“How do you feel?” Aziraphale asked after a few minutes, giving Crowley space to catch his breath. 

“Raw.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Crowley mumbled. “S’part of the whole thing, I think. As long as you - as long as you  _ stay _ .” There was something that clenched uncomfortably around his chest whenever he thought about Aziraphale leaving. “Please stay.” 

“Forever.” 

Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s chest against his, his belly expanding and contracting. Crowley matched his breathing to Aziraphale’s and, when he felt a little less raw, lifted his head from beneath Aziraphale’s chin and gazed at him. 

“Hello, my Omega.” Aziraphale smiled and cupped his cheek, bringing their foreheads together. His blue eyes studied Crowley’s. Somehow, the smell of burning sugar had faded back into Aziraphale’s normal chocolate and vanilla scent. Crowley wanted to lose himself in it, comforted by the familiarity. 

“Hello, Alpha.” Crowley stole a soft kiss, then sighed and closed his eyes. 

“You can rest,” Aziraphale pointed out. He rubbed his thumb against Crowley’s temple. “Are you hungry?” 

“No.” He likely would be, though, when the initial rush of endorphins and hormones wore off. He would also be sore. “Is my neck alright?” 

Aziraphale dipped his head down and dragged his tongue over the wound. It stung a bit, but also felt nice, and Crowley shivered. Aziraphale kissed the underside of his jaw and then stilled. “You’ll be alright. We’ll clean it up once we’re a little less...well.” 

“Connected.” 

“Connected.” Aziraphale chuckled. 

“You’re in a good mood.” 

“Are you not?” Aziraphale asked, sobering. Crowley opened his eyes and found Aziraphale watching him with concern. 

“I am. I’m just tired. I...I don’t know.” 

“You don’t regret it, do you?” 

“God, no.” Crowley kissed him. “I’m just tired, and I’m going to be sore, and my neck is bloody, and I’m filthy…” 

“I get it, I get it.” Aziraphale leaned down and dragged the blankets up over them both. It helped Crowley feel a little more settled as he nestled in against Aziraphale’s chest. “I’ll bathe you again, when this is all done. Then I’ll find us something to eat.” 

Crowley’s eyes were closed again and he drifted. “Mmhm.” 

“You can sleep,” Aziraphale murmured. “I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Good.” Crowley’s breathing began to slow as he allowed his mind to wander, the soft vibrations of his purr filling the room. Aziraphale made a delighted noise and laid his cheek against Crowley’s forehead. “‘Love you.” 

He didn’t need to hear Aziraphale’s answer. He already knew what it was. 

Aziraphale was true to his word when Crowley next woke up. It seemed his rut had been satisfied, and Crowley wondered if the short duration had to do with the bond. Whatever the case, the room smelled like a mix of their scents, fire and chocolate, cinnamon and vanilla, and it created a comforting blanket that kept the raw sensation in Crowley’s chest from overwhelming him. 

As he suspected, he ached. Whether it was his thighs, his stomach, or his arms, anytime he moved he ached. His neck hurt, too, slightly inflamed and definitely uncomfortable. To add insult to injury, the sheets were damp again, and Crowley was still tired. 

“Hush.” Aziraphale murmured, and Crowley realized the soft whine he heard was coming from his own chest, his own throat. “Come on.” Aziraphale gathered Crowley up in his arms and brought him into an ensuite bathroom. He had him sit on a stool as he turned on the faucet and hot water began pouring into a tub much smaller than the one in the main bath. 

“You won’t fit,” Crowley pointed out, the words thick in his mouth. 

“You’re the one I’m concerned about,” Aziraphale replied, eventually guiding Crowley into the tub once it was full. He grimaced as he sank into the water, but he sat and allowed Aziraphale to run a soft washcloth over him again. He paid special attention to the wound on his neck, even as Crowley flinched away from the sting. 

“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale frowned and pressed the cloth to it, the heat soothing the earlier sting. “I did quite a number on you.” 

“S’okay.” 

“Hm.” Aziraphale didn’t sound convinced, so Crowley took one of his hands and brought it to his lips, kissing his palm. 

“Aziraphale,” he nuzzled the damp skin beneath his lips. “It is okay.” 

Aziraphale sighed sharply through his nose and looked a bit helplessly at Crowley. “I didn’t intend to be so rough. I don’t like it when I’m not in control of myself.” 

Crowley let go of his hand and leaned over toward the edge of the tub where Aziraphale was on his knees. He pecked him on the nose. “I felt the same way when I bit you. It was all instinct.” 

That seemed to be of some relief as Aziraphale offered him a half-smile. “At least I’m not alone.” 

“Never.” Crowley kissed him on the lips. Aziraphale touched his chin to keep him there and deepened it. Crowley hummed, pleased. When they broke apart, Crowley smiled. 

Then his stomach growled and he blushed. 

“Hungry, then?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Apparently.” 

“Up you go.” Aziraphale fussed with Crowley to get him to stand and wrapped a large, fluffy towel around him. He dried off in the bedroom as Aziraphale first changed out the wet sheets, and then got dressed. 

“Stay here and I’ll bring back something to eat.” Aziraphale fixed his collar. He had pulled on a button-up and a pair of loose cotton trousers. He was barefoot, flashing ankles thanks to the trousers being a smidge too short. Somehow, he was as beautiful clothed as he was naked. 

“You’re beautiful,” Crowley blurted out and Aziraphale looked taken aback, before he offered up a shy smile and crossed over to Crowley. 

“As are you.” He kissed Crowley and then stepped away. “And if you keep saying things like that, I’ll never be able to get us our food.” 

“Go on then, Alpha. Fetch me something to eat.” Crowley waved him off with a grin as Aziraphale rolled his eyes. He left and Crowley fought the moment of insecurity that followed before he remedied it by rearranging the blankets and pillows in their nest and burying down beneath the fluff. 

When the door next opened he was greeted by the familiar sound of paws on wood as he was suddenly joined on the bed by Honey. She trilled at him, her tail fluffed up as she managed to slip between the pillows and get into a position where she could rub her face against his. 

“She was demanding to see you,” Aziraphale explained. He stepped into the den with a tray and a stand in hand. He put down the stand and set the tray on top. There were scones, clotted cream, sliced up fruit, and some cheese. 

“Of course she was.” Crowley rubbed Honey’s cheeks and nuzzled his face against hers in return, accepting it when she began to groom him, licking his hair. “Obviously she knew I needed to be groomed.” 

“Hm.” Aziraphale shook his head. “I don’t like to be criticized by a cat.” 

“You did a great job braiding it,” Crowley replied, smiling. “She’s an expert, though.” 

“Naturally.” 

Once the cat was hauled into a warm spot where she was willing to curl up and rest, Crowley sat up and accepted a small plate of everything that was on offer. He popped a slice of clementine into his mouth. 

“Thank you, Alpha.” 

“You’re welcome, Omega,” Aziraphale huffed. “I hope you’re not planning on always using that title now.” 

“You are  _ definitely _ my Alpha now.” 

“As if I weren’t before.” 

“I guess I did bite you first.” Crowley popped another piece of fruit into his mouth as Aziraphale settled beside him with a cup of hot cocoa. Crowley stole a fingerful of whipped cream. 

“That you did.” Aziraphale stole a whipped cream flavored kiss and then popped a piece of scone into his mouth. 

Crowley settled with his legs curled under him, leaning against Aziraphale as they ate. Near his hip, Honey purred, and Crowley rubbed her between the ears before he turned and kissed Aziraphale on the cheek. He realized he had his own little family now, one he loved dearly, and he smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday. 
> 
> Come hang out with me on [twitter]() and [tumblr]() \- especially if you've got good turnip prices today on Animal Crossing because mine are terrible.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is WEDNESDAY y'all. And we only have one more Wednesday together before this fic wraps. After this one is done, I'm likely going to take a short break from posting while I work on some pieces. One of them is for an AU event I'm participating in, and the other is going to be a sequel to this piece. I'm still hammering out the plot details, but I've got something peculating in my brain. 
> 
> As it is, I hope you enjoy this week's chapter C: Thanks, as always, for reading and commenting. 
> 
> Enjoy.

As with most things, time healed the wound on Crowley’s neck. What remained was a scar that clearly resembled a bite, something that was all teeth indentations and knotted tissue. Even after it healed, and a month after that, it still caught him off guard at times when he looked in the mirror. He had seen the mark on his father growing up, and on his sister when he saw her once after her wedding day, and on most other married Omegas in the circles he grew up in. 

Those marks had bothered him, but his own left a fire smoldering at his core. It was warm and comfortable. He was certain that feeling was what love was. 

Aziraphale was in the kitchen baking. Christmas was approaching, and the local church was gathering baked goods to give out to the town. Crowley, Honey cradled in his arms, prowled into the kitchen and watched from the doorway as Aziraphale and Madame Tracy worked together around the kitchen. She was pulling something from the oven just as Aziraphale was finishing another sheet of cookies. 

The kitchen smelled heavenly. Aziraphale’s scent fit right in. 

“No cats in the kitchen,” Aziraphale warned from across the way, sliding the new sheet of cookies into the oven. 

“We’re not really in the kitchen,” Crowley pointed out. “And she’s in my arms, anyway.” 

“Mrrrow.” Honey’s tail swished against Crowley’s side. 

“See?” Crowley leaned down and kissed her face. She had grown far more tolerant of his affections as of late, seemingly a bit more affectionate overall once she realized he was a nice heating pad in the dead of winter. “She’s harmless.” 

“Hopefully not too harmless. I’m grateful she’s managed to keep the mice away,” Madame Tracy pointed out, putting a batch of cookies on to cool. “As long as she’s not getting into anything, I’m sure she’s fine.” 

“Mutiny, in my own home.” Aziraphale shook his head as he stepped away from the counter and walked over to Crowley, leaning in to steal a kiss. He barely dodged the swing of Honey’s paw. “Really?” 

“She gets jealous.” Crowley smiled. He was glad for his feline companion’s growing comfort, even if it meant taking a swipe or two at Aziraphale.

“Clearly.” 

“Aziraphale?” A familiar and wholly unwelcome voice echoed through the kitchen. Aziraphale perked up and frowned. 

“Is that Gabriel?” Madame Tracy asked, frowning. “He didn’t say he was coming.” 

“No, he didn’t.” Aziraphale was out of the kitchen before Crowley could stop him. His scent was sharp and unhappy and Crowley followed him. 

“Oh, there you are.” He heard Gabriel say, and when he stepped into the main foyer it was impossible to miss the stiffness in Aziraphale’s posture. “Ah, and Crowley.” 

Crowley took a step back, keeping Honey in his arms even as she began to squirm. 

Aziraphale stood in Gabriel’s line of sight of Crowley and growled. “Why are you here, unannounced?” 

“We’re family,” Gabriel pointed out with a scowl. He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Crowley finally set Honey down and she skittered into the sitting room nearby, disappearing. 

“By blood,” Aziraphale answered. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here. 

“Is it so strange to want to see my brother and his husband this close to the holidays?” 

“Typically, one would send a request to visit. And yours would have likely been denied.” 

“Are you still sore over what happened?” Gabriel huffed and threw his hands up. “I was trying to  _ help _ , Aziraphale.” 

“Yes, and I made it clear just how unhelpful you were. Your letters around the anniversary of our parents’ deaths weren’t helpful, either. Now, you come into my home, unannounced, uninvited, and for what?” 

Crowley stared at Aziraphale’s back then glanced beyond him at Gabriel. Gabriel wore patches so Crowley couldn’t smell him, but he didn’t need to. He could see the dark circles under Gabriel’s eyes, the frown lines around his mouth, and he knew, somehow, that there was more going on. There was a reason someone as proper as Gabriel would drop in without going through proper channels to do so. Something was wrong. 

“To check in on you!” Gabriel exclaimed. 

“To see if I’ve gotten Crowley pregnant yet? Or to threaten to take him away again if I don’t?” 

“Aziraphale.” Crowley stepped closer to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“Crowley, you should go upstairs,” Aziraphale’s chest rumbled with a growl and he smelled like burning chocolate, almost like hot chocolate that had been left on the stove too long. Crowley hoped his own growing sense of calm in the face of two agitated Alphas was a far more pleasant smell. 

“I’m not going to.” Crowley insisted. 

“You should,” Gabriel added. “This is a conversation for - for -” he stopped. “Oh.” 

“What?” Aziraphale snapped. 

“You’ve claimed him.” Gabriel blinked and then broke out into a nervous smile. “Does that mean...are you two…?” 

“No!” Aziraphale snarled and took a step forward, but Crowley put a hand on his arm and tugged him back. Aziraphale tensed as if he were about to shake him off, but then thought better of it. Instead, he growled. 

“Why does it matter to you so much, Gabriel?” Crowley asked, trying to keep his voice steady as his hand slid down Aziraphale’s arms and found his hand, lacing their fingers together. Aziraphale grumbled next to him. 

“It is the right way of things. You...you both deserve to carry on your lines, and perhaps your family already has another generation but ours  _ doesn’t _ .” Gabriel’s smile faded as he looked between Aziraphale and Crowley. “It is important.” 

“I don’t see you having children,” Aziraphale pointed out. “You keep bothering me about my mate while you and yours haven’t had offspring.” 

Gabriel looked as if he’d been struck, his face paling. “That has no bearing on this,” he ground out. 

“It does. Perhaps I ought to be showing up at your home, posturing around your mate, complaining about how you and her haven’t -” 

“You wouldn’t be able to!” Gabriel shouted, throwing up his hands. Crowley flinched and Aziraphale snarled. “You wouldn’t be able to because she’s  _ gone _ .” 

Gabriel turned and showed them his back, running his hands through his hair. Aziraphale glanced at Crowley and frowned. 

“What?” 

“She left me.” Gabriel’s hands laid against the back of his own neck as he bent his head forward. “She’s gone. She filed for a divorce and it was granted because...because I couldn’t give her children.” 

“Oh.” Crowley’s chest constricted at the broken note in Gabriel’s voice. It took a lot for an Alpha to show their back to another one, to put themselves in a vulnerable position. Yet there he was, Gabriel Fell, with his head bent and his shoulders sloped in defeat. 

Aziraphale breathed in sharply beside him and squeezed his hand. “So that’s why you’ve come?” 

Gabriel let out an unhappy laugh as he turned and offered his hands up in a shrug. “Yes, Aziraphale. That’s why I’ve come. I wanted to tell you about my failures so you could finally say you were right, somehow. Or that I’m - I’m a terrible Alpha, a terrible husband, a miserable mate, and according to her, I’m the reason we can’t have children.” 

“How do you know it isn’t her?” Aziraphale offered, sounding uncertain. 

Gabriel scoffed. “We don’t. But she pulled the trigger first, so to speak. So I’m the one to blame.” 

“Why don’t we have a seat?” Aziraphale let go of Crowley’s hand, but instead of moving away he simply moved his hand to Crowley’s lower back. “I’m going to fetch us some tea. Crowley, dear, would you help me?” 

“Of course.” Crowley shot one last look at Gabriel before he was ushered into the kitchen. Aziraphale’s hands were on him then, running through his hair and over his arms. Aziraphale leaned in and nuzzled along Crowley’s jaw and Crowley huffed and pushed him away. “You don’t smell good, Alpha.” 

“You’re rude,” Aziraphale grumbled as he continued to rub his burning scent onto Crowley anyway.

“I’m not the one making you smell angry,” Crowley pointed out, but he tugged Aziraphale close enough that their bodies were pressed together. Aziraphale nosed up under his jaw and took a deep breath. 

“You’re right. You smell much better than I do.” 

“Hmm.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s curls and then closed his eyes. “So Gabriel is...a lot, right now.” 

“As he often is.” Aziraphale laid his hands on Crowley’s hips and remained close to him. 

“I think he needs his brother tonight,” Crowley murmured. Aziraphale groaned. “I know. I know! He’s been an utter arse but...I don’t know. I saw his face, this is eating him up inside.” 

“He brought this on himself, you know.” Aziraphale huffed. “He’s so focused on...I don’t even know - whatever this strange obsession is with children, and carrying on the family line. I have no doubt that’s what chased his mate away.” 

Aziraphale was likely right. Had Crowley been faced with Gabriel instead of Aziraphale, he likely would have run for the hills the first chance he got. But at the same time he couldn’t help the wave of sympathy, one that came when he considered Aziraphale leaving him over a lack of children. Losing his mate would be devastating, and even if Gabriel was an arse, at least they had context for it. 

“I know. You can send him away if you really want to.” Crowley lifted a hand and laid it against the back of Aziraphale’s neck, rubbing his fingertips against the short hairs there. 

“I don’t.” Aziraphale sighed, shoulders dropping in defeat. “He’s such a pill.” 

“Siblings are.” Crowley squeezed Aziraphale in a hug before he let him go and Aziraphale stepped away. “Family is hard.” 

They made a pot of tea. Crowley dressed the tray with cups, sugar, and milk, while Aziraphale lifted the kettle onto it. Together, they walked it out into the sitting room where Gabriel had taken up the maroon settee. He sat hunched forward, head in his hands and elbows on his knees. 

“Tea,” Aziraphale announced, and Gabriel came back to life. He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” Aziraphale made Crowley a cup and passed it to him, before making one for Gabriel and handing it over. Gabriel held it in his hands but didn’t drink, even after Aziraphale made his own and sat down next to Crowley on a loveseat. Crowley scooted over so their thighs touched. 

They all sat in silence for a few moments that seemed to stretch into hours. 

“So your mate is gone.” Aziraphale finally broke the silence, setting his teacup down. Gabriel grimaced, violet eyes shifting from the floor, to Aziraphale, and then back to the floor. 

“Yes.” 

“And?” 

Crowley had never quite heard Aziraphale sound so damn brusque before. He secretly admired the fact his Alpha could be a bit of a bastard. 

Gabriel’s lips curled into what could have been a snarl, before he thought better of it and sipped his tea. “And that’s it. I’ve failed.” 

“Failed what, Gabriel?” Aziraphale’s brow furrowed. 

“Take your pick, Aziraphale. I would think you’d be glad to point out my failings.” Gabriel set his cup down and spread his hands out, welcoming criticism. “I’m surprised you haven’t laid into me yet.” 

“Is that what you came here for, then?” Aziraphale asked. “To be berated? To have me confirm what you see as your own failings? Well, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place.” 

“Haven’t you been waiting for this?” 

“For you to fail?” Aziraphale set down his cup and sat forward. “Gabriel, why would you think that?  _ You _ were the one insisting that I was somehow a failure for not getting married sooner and not having children quickly enough. I never accepted that attitude.” 

“Because - because!” Gabriel stood up and made a frustrated sound as he began to pace. “How could you  _ not _ ? How do you go about your day feeling as if we haven’t failed our parents? Their line is going to die with us. Their - their.... _ everything _ .” 

“Gabriel.” Aziraphale sighed and glanced at Crowley, who felt very much like he was intruding in a private moment. 

“Should I go?” Crowley whispered. 

“No, dear,” Aziraphale whispered back. “Your scent is helping me.” He squeezed Crowley’s hand and then stood, watching Gabriel pace. 

“They’re dead, Aziraphale. It is my fault, and I can’t even carry on their legacy. I’ve failed them,  _ again _ .” 

“That’s foolish.” Aziraphale approached and laid a hand on Gabriel’s arm. Gabriel flinched with it, lip lifting in another snarl before he let it go and breathed out. “They’re gone, and it isn’t your fault. It isn’t mine, either. There was nothing we could have done.” 

Gabriel shook his head. “If I’d had the resources, and if I’d married the mate our mother suggested early on, then maybe -” 

“Maybe  _ nothing _ , Gabriel. How on earth could you think that a physical illness was your fault? There were no resources that could have helped her, nor anything that could have kept our father from following her into the afterlife. I didn’t...I didn’t know that you blamed yourself.” Aziraphale trailed off and Crowley’s heart clenched. He wanted to comfort him, to chase away the despair with warm touches and his scent. 

Instead, he let the brothers have their moment. They clearly needed it, if anything was going to move forward. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Aziraphale repeated, squeezing Gabriel’s arm. “Your mate leaving you was likely your fault, and we can talk about that. We can talk through it. But...our parents weren’t.” 

Aziraphale squeezed his arm again and then let it go. “You can stay the rest of the day, if you’d like. And the evening. I’ll have Madame Tracy make up a room for you.” 

“I don’t want to put you out,” Gabriel said, his voice flat. 

“You’re not. This was our home, our  _ parent’s _ home for a very long time. You may have taken the larger estate but...you should be here, with family.” Aziraphale straightened his shoulders and looked a bit like he had forced out the words, but Crowley’s chest bubbled with affection at the sight. His Alpha was  _ kind _ , and that was one of the things he liked best. 

“Right.” Gabriel nodded. 

“But first,” Aziraphale walked back over to the loveseat and offered Crowley his hand. Crowley took it and was pulled to his feet. “I’d like you to apologize to my mate.” 

Gabriel turned, brow furrowed, lips set in a frown. “What?” 

“I’d like you to apologize for your previous behavior toward my husband.” Aziraphale laced his fingers with Crowley’s and squeezed his hand. “I love you, and I want to talk this through, but...I can’t forget, nor excuse, the intent with which you came here. And the intent with which you’ve come here in the past.” 

Gabriel looked as if he’d been struck, his face going red. He looked between them as if looking for an escape. Crowley imagined he wouldn’t find one. 

“Aziraphale -” 

Aziraphale cut him off with a wave of his hand and a short, “No.” Then they stared at each other before Gabriel finally broke eye contact. 

“I’m  _ sorry _ .” He grit out the words like his mouth didn’t know how to form them. “I’m sorry, all right? I’ve been terrible, I’ve -” 

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale sounded exasperated. “An apology isn’t about putting yourself down. It is about owning up to your damned actions. Stop it.” 

Gabriel shot Aziraphale a glare and looked ready to spit out something unpleasant, before he thought better of it. He looked at Crowley, lips forming an uncertain line. “I’m sorry, Crowley, for - er. You know. My behavior.” 

Crowley glanced at Aziraphale and then back at Gabriel. He waited. 

“For pressuring you both, for coming here unannounced, and for…” His shoulders slumped and he looked at the floor. “Everything.” 

“Thankfully, you don’t have to be sorry for arranging our marriage.” Crowley leaned over and nuzzled Aziraphale’s cheek. “But thank you for apologizing.” 

“Yes, thank you.” Aziraphale nuzzled Crowley in return and then turned his attention back to his brother. “Would you like your old room?” 

“Anything is fine. I...need to take a walk.” 

“Feel free.” Aziraphale and Crowley watched as Gabriel glanced at them and then turned and left for the front door. They listened to it open and close before the tension finally eased out of the room. Crowley tugged Aziraphale into a hug, running his hands up and down his back. 

“That was a thing.” He huffed and kissed the side of Aziraphale’s head. 

“It was, wasn’t it.” 

“I liked the bit where you made him apologize.” 

Aziraphale laughed. “I thought you might. I think he mostly meant it.” 

“If he didn’t, I think he will eventually.” 

“I imagine so.” 

Crowley nuzzled his face into Aziraphale’s shoulder and leaned into him. “You’re really letting him stay?” 

“For the night, anyway. He really was upset. I swore he was going to soak through his patches. I can’t remember the last time I was actually given the chance to smell him. I think I almost got to tonight.” 

“He doesn’t have to wear them.” Crowley still hated patches. He preferred his life with Aziraphale and their friends, one filled with scents unique to each and every person. They told so many stories. He could still get overwhelmed by strange scents, but Crowley had learned to love the smells closest to him.

“I know. I’ll make that clear, but I imagine it will be slow going with him.” 

Crowley didn’t see Gabriel for the rest of the evening after he came back inside and retired to his room.

“Should we check on him?” Crowley asked as he stepped into their den, comforted by being in their shared space. Aziraphale closed the door and came up beside him, dropping a kiss to his temple. 

“No. I think he needs to think through some things.” Aziraphale padded toward the dresser and began to strip. Crowley watched him in the lamplight, following his movements as he unbuttoned his overshirt and folded it to wear another day. Then he tugged off his undershirt, revealing his pale shoulders, and the lines of his chest and belly. Crowley’s eyes roamed over his skin and then he was caught, Aziraphale watching him with raised brows. 

“Enjoying the show?” Aziraphale inquired, dropping his undershirt into the hamper. Crowley smiled. 

“Yes, actually.” 

Color rose up in Aziraphale’s cheeks. “Ah.” 

Crowley prowled over and laid his hands on Aziraphale’s hips from behind, leaning in to kiss his right shoulder. His lips trailed up Aziraphale’s neck, hands sliding from hips to run along his belly. “I love you,” he whispered into his ear. 

Aziraphale hummed and Crowley could feel it beneath his hands as he slid one up to rest on Aziraphale’s chest. “I love you too, Crowley.” 

“My mother, at the party in the fall. She...was worried, I think, that you would leave me if we didn’t have children.” 

Aziraphale turned in Crowley’s arms and tilted Crowley’s head up to look at him. Crowley hadn’t spoken about the party, disinterested in dredging up his mother’s horrible words. Now, though, it seemed relevant. They both had difficult family members to deal with. 

“And it seems like Gabriel has his own worries. I just…” Crowley swallowed hard and leaned in to press his forehead to Aziraphale’s, eyes closing. “Whatever happens, I’m yours, okay? No matter what else family says, or does, or whatever happens. I want to be yours.” 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale’s voice wavered and his hands came up to cradle Crowley’s face. Aziraphale kissed him, chaste and soft. “I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours.” 

“Oh, good.” Crowley laughed and it was a soft, airy thing, like being punched in the gut. He hadn’t expected a different answer, but he was glad to have it confirmed. 

“And with that, I think I have something to ask you.” 

“Oh?” 

Aziraphale let go of Crowley and slid down to one knee, taking Crowley’s left hand between both of his. “You asked me to propose, not so long ago. I think I would like to make good on that promise, though I would still like to be proposed to, you know.” 

Crowley stared down at him, tears springing up into his eyes. “You’re going to make me cry, you jerk. And we’re already married.” 

“Mm, yes. But I’d like to propose properly this time.” Aziraphale rubbed Crowley’s hand and then leaned down to press a kiss to his wedding ring. “Anthony Crowley, you are a handsome, wonderful, forgiving, and kind man. I would say you have stolen my heart, but in all honesty I’ve given it to you freely. I want you to be my husband, now and forever, with the promise that I will protect you and love you until we’re on our deathbeds, and then even beyond that.” 

“Of course the answer is yes.” Crowley blinked away a few tears and tugged on Aziraphale’s hand. “Now get up here and kiss me.” 

“Gladly.” 

They stripped and fell into bed together, Aziraphale’s body familiar and warm as they kissed and Crowley allowed himself to get lost in it. Eventually they settled, both worn out, Aziraphale buried inside of Crowley and curled against his back. He had a possessive arm around Crowley’s waist and nosed at the mark on his neck, brushing his lips over it. 

“Mmph.” Crowley tilted his head to give Aziraphale better access, his chest beginning to vibrate with a purr. “We have Hastur and Ligur’s wedding in the spring. Should we have our vow renewal in the summer?” 

“We could always do it around our anniversary.” Aziraphale nibbled at his shoulder, then soothed it with a kiss. “But you have to propose first.” 

“Aziraphale, will you marry me again?” 

That earned him a smack on his belly that had him squirming with a laugh. 

“You can do better than that.” Aziraphale insisted.

“You’re right, I can. But it will need to be a surprise. My proposal will blow your mind.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Aziraphale soothed his palm over Crowley’s belly. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

“What should we do about your brother?” 

“I’d rather not talk about him right now.” Aziraphale sighed. “But we’ll figure it out in the morning, when we see how he is.” 

“Alright.” Crowley settled, back pressed against Aziraphale’s chest. “I love you, angel.” 

“And I love you, my dear.” Aziraphale kissed his cheek. “Now rest.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates every Wednesday!
> 
> Come follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [Tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/).


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley reflects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll leave my thoughts to the end. All my love to [coveredincrumb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegiftoftime/pseuds/coveredincrumb) who has been a faithful, wonderful beta reader. Please, enjoy.

Gabriel stayed two days with them. He and Aziraphale spent a lot of time sequestered into Aziraphale’s office to have long discussions. Crowley was not privy to them, nor did he really want to be. The brothers needed to figure out their relationship. He’d have his time to talk with Gabriel later. 

The evening of the second day, Aziraphale joined him in bed with a tired sigh. Crowley immediately wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Aziraphale tucked his face into Crowley’s neck and they breathed together. Aziraphale’s scent of cocoa and vanilla wrapped around him, and he tilted his head to let Aziraphale nuzzle into his scent. 

“Alright?” Crowley asked after Aziraphale relaxed in his arms. 

“There’s been a lot that Gabriel has been harboring, I’m finding. I wish he would have come out about it sooner. He and his mate have been at odds for almost a year.” Aziraphale tilted his head back and looked at Crowley. “Former mate, now.” 

Crowley closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “And how are you feeling about it all?” 

Aziraphale huffed a laugh. “Conflicted. Angry. Sympathetic. Then I think about what losing you would be like and I can understand why he’s a bit of a wreck right now. And they weren’t even as attached as we are.” Aziraphale stroked the side of Crowley’s face. 

“I’m not going anywhere, angel.” 

“I know. Nonetheless, I can understand his position even if I think he likely got what he deserved.” 

“That’s a hard place to be.” 

“It is.” Aziraphale brushed his nose against Crowley’s, nuzzling. 

“Will he be staying much longer?” 

“Oh, another couple of days I imagine. I think being here, away from his home, is doing him some good.” 

Crowley contemplated that, eyes fluttering open to find Aziraphale’s eyes closed. He reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a pleased rumble in Aziraphale’s chest. “I’d like to talk to him.” 

Aziraphale’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Oh?” 

“I think there are a few things I’d like to know.” Crowley laid his hand against the nape of Aziraphale’s neck. 

“Well. I won’t stop you, though I can’t promise he will be polite.” 

Crowley snorted. “I’d be worried if he were.” 

They lapsed into silence, gazing at each other, touching faces and hair with light fingers. Then, Aziraphale leaned in and kissed him. “I love you, my dear.” 

“Mm. I love you, too.” 

They fell asleep tangled together, just as Crowley liked. The warmth of the room and his husband’s weight against him was a consistent comfort. 

The next day, Crowley set out to find Gabriel while Aziraphale got some work done. He found him sitting out under the awning in the back garden near stacked up patio furniture. It was raining, and Gabriel had his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he stared out at it. 

“Do you think you’ll stay for Christmas?” Crowley asked. Gabriel startled and then turned to glance at him. He wasn’t wearing his patches, and on the breeze, mingling with the smell of fresh rain, Crowley caught the scent of hazelnuts. It was strange to smell Gabriel after he’d been a sterile figure for so long. To see Gabriel stripped down to a simple shirt and trousers, his hair slightly off kilter, was a refreshing reminder of how human he was. 

It was actually sort of nice. 

“I don’t know.” Gabriel looked back out at the rain.

“I think Aziraphale would like it if you did.” 

Gabriel huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t respond. 

“I have a question for you,” Crowley continued, waiting until Gabriel tilted his head as a signal to go on. “Why did you choose me?” 

“Convenience.” Gabriel sighed. “It just worked. I knew you were the oldest child and the only one unmarried in the Crowley family. I knew your mother had been searching for a match for years, since you came of age. Your family was respectable, your sister has shown to be fertile…” 

Crowley grimaced at that. He wasn’t surprised by the answer, but he had hoped for something more. 

“You were handsome enough, and I thought perhaps your insolence - according to your mother - would finally bring out Aziraphale’s authoritative nature. Apparently I miscalculated.” Gabriel shrugged. “And yet here we are.” 

“Here we are.” Crowley walked up to stand beside him and didn’t miss the way Gabriel shifted from one foot to the other. “Somehow your selfish ambition matched me with the love of my life.” 

Gabriel frowned, but said nothing. Crowley could smell him better then, the unhappiness evident. Finally, he griped. “Lucky you.” 

“You don’t have to be this way, you know.” Crowley turned to him but Gabriel refused to meet his gaze. “You had some good intent in setting your brother up in a marriage, at least in the pairing. I like to believe you had good intent in trying to have children. But you don’t...you don’t have to live by those rules.” 

“Rules are what keep families going -” 

“They don’t, though. They’re what tear families apart. Do you think my father is particularly happy to be without his two children? To know his daughter is off in France where he will likely not see her for years at a time, and his son doesn’t want anything to do with him anymore? Sure, he did his duty, furthered the family line, but what has he really gained? Life with my mother?” Crowley snorted. “All for the sake of rules.” 

“Your mother is furious.” 

“Yes, well. She can remain so.” Crowley shrugged. “Or she can talk to my husband about it and see how well that goes for her.” 

At that, Gabriel laughed, but it was a hollow sort of thing. “Yes, well. If there’s one thing Aziraphale is protective of, it is you.” 

“And I’m protective of him, which is why I wanted to talk to you. Because if you’re going to try to return to your old bullshit, you’re better off leaving now and being alone.” 

Gabriel looked at him, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?” 

Crowley tilted his head and shrugged. “If you are really here to change, to repair your relationship with Aziraphale, then I’m willing to welcome you into our home. Into our lives. But if this is all going to dissolve and you’re going to return to your old rhetoric, then you might as well walk away now. I won’t allow you to hurt my mate like that.” 

“I think that’s Aziraphale’s decision.” 

“No, it isn’t.” Crowley grinned and it was all teeth, a threatening gesture. “It is mine, because I will protect him, even if it means chasing his family away from him. Because he has a soft heart, a good heart, and he’s willing to forgive but I’m not, unless you prove you’re actually sorry.” 

He watched as Gabriel’s face turned red and he bit back whatever his retort was. Gabriel’s shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath, gazing at the garden. “I don’t know.” 

“You don’t know what?” 

“I don’t know how to prove I’m sorry. I don’t know if I  _ am _ sorry, not entirely. I don’t know much anymore.” Crowley could barely make out the curve of Gabriel’s frown. “But I want to try to figure it out.” 

Crowley eased. “That’s good enough for now, but it won’t be good enough for long.” 

“Right.” 

Crowley allowed silence to hang between them, the sound of the rain pitter pattering on the stones and dirt surrounding them. Finally, “spend Christmas with us.” 

“Alright.” 

“Good.” Crowley shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then turned back toward the house. “And Gabriel?” 

“Yes?” 

“Don’t talk to my mother ever again. If I find out you have been discussing anything with her, I will make sure Aziraphale tosses you out on your arse and you never see him again.” Crowley knew threatening an Alpha like that wasn’t the smartest thing, but the thought of his mother having any involvement in their lives made his blood boil. 

“I won’t.” Gabriel sighed, and Crowley headed back inside. 

Gabriel did spend Christmas with them, then went home, but he wasn’t a stranger. Sometimes Crowley would return from the village and find Gabriel sitting with Madame Tracy, quietly taking tea. Or he would be with Aziraphale, walking the grounds. He didn’t go out of his way to spend time with Crowley, but he was polite, and Crowley appreciated it. 

“Is he changing?” Crowley asked, sprawled on his back in their nest. He had one of his favorite blankets draped over him, lined with some sort of fuzzy fabric Adam’s mom had found. She’d made it for him and Aziraphale as a thank-you for watching after the Them, and he loved the feel of it against his bare skin. 

“Hm?” Aziraphale had just come in for the evening and was working on stripping out of his layers. 

“Gabriel.” 

“Oh. Yes, I think so. As much as anyone can, I think. He certainly seems to have had a change of heart about a great many things.” 

“He’s not pressuring you to have children?” 

Aziraphale shrugged out of his undershirt and walked over to the bed, still in his trousers. He leaned onto the bed on a knee, leaning even further over Crowley to bend down and kiss him. “Not so much. He does have difficulty understanding why we don’t want them, though.”

“Does he have you rethinking it?” Crowley nuzzled him after the kiss, running a hand through his curls. 

“Not really. I’m as ambivalent as I’ve ever been about it. And you?” 

Crowley gazed into Aziraphale’s eyes as he slid his hand down to rest against his cheek. He tapped his fingers against it with a thoughtful hum. “I’m not sure.” 

Aziraphale chuckled. “I suppose we’re in the same place as we’ve been, which is perfectly fine.” 

Crowley slipped a leg out from under the blanket and wrapped it around Aziraphale’s hip, pulling him flush on top of him. Aziraphale made a startled sound, then smiled as he pressed a trail of kisses to Crowley’s neck. “Are you in need of something, my love?” 

Crowley made another thoughtful sound, tilting his head back into the pillows. “You could pretend, perhaps, that we’re trying for a child.” 

Aziraphale laughed against his neck and then dropped his head to Crowley’s shoulder. “Oh, a bit of a naughty thing, aren’t you.” 

“It isn’t  _ naughty _ . Maybe I’ve warmed to the thought of having my husband’s child,” Crowley huffed. “See if I share my fantasies with you again.” 

Aziraphale lifted his head and clicked his tongue. “No, that attitude won’t do. I’ll breed you, my love, if that is what you wish.” 

Crowley shuddered as Aziraphale’s hands slid up his arms and pinned his wrists to the bed. “Angel.” 

“Hm?” 

“Better get to it,” Crowley insisted with a shift of his hips, drawing another chuckle from Aziraphale. 

In the dead of winter, Crowley and Aziraphale accepted an overnight invitation to the Embers’ Estate. Ligur and Hastur were there to greet them, Beez and Dagon not far behind. On their end, Gabriel had accompanied them. He needed to be more social, according to Aziraphale, particularly now that he was a bachelor. Gabriel had blanched at that and Crowley had howled with laughter, despite it being in bad taste, because how glorious was it to see Gabriel in the position they were once in. 

“Who is the stiff?” Beez asked, motioning toward Gabriel. 

“He’s not a  _ stiff _ , you jackass,” Dagon hissed. 

“Looks like a stiff to me.” Beez was unphased. 

“This is my brother, Gabriel Fell,” Aziraphale announced, stepping aside to motion to him. 

Beez’s eyes narrowed. Dagon elbowed them. Gabriel grimaced. 

It was a fun time all around, really, in Crowley’s book. When he wasn’t romping with Beez and Hastur, he had a chance to watch them all torment Gabriel with their imperfect manners. Ligur pulled Crowley aside later in the evening, not long before bed. They stood in a lounge, a fire crackling nearby. 

“Has yer mum bothered ya again?” Ligur asked. 

“No. Not since that night. I haven’t heard from her.” 

“She was mighty pissed. Had a word with my parents, not that they gave a shit.” Ligur smirked. “Seemed to make yer mum feel better to complain.” 

“I’m sure she’s complained about my disrespect to everyone.” He rolled his eyes. “Good riddance.” 

“That’s the spirit.” Ligur pat him on the shoulder. 

“I actually had a question for you.” Crowley fidgeted. “If Aziraphale and I were to have a vow renewal ceremony this summer, do you think you and Hastur would attend? Perhaps with Beez and Dagon?” 

Ligur considered him and then smiled. “‘Course I would. We would all love to. I assume yer planning somethin’?” 

“That I am,” Crowley replied. “But I promise we won’t send out invitations until your wedding.” 

“Better not, ‘else you might steal the show.” 

Gabriel spent more time at his own home as winter turned to spring, and Crowley didn’t mind it in the least. He had a proposal to plan for, after all, and it wouldn’t do to have Gabriel underfoot, sulking about the place. 

“Psst.” 

Crowley was in the garden, pruning some bushes, when he heard a sound and turned toward it. Adam stood between the bushes, looking more every day like an adolescent and less like a child. He motioned Crowley over and then presented a box. 

“I got the stuff from my mum that you asked for.” 

“Oh, thank you, Adam.” Crowley scooped up the box. Inside were pear tarts, a specialty of Adam’s mother, and a favorite for Aziraphale. 

“Is it happening tonight?” 

“Assuming the weather keeps, yes.” Crowley smiled. 

“Cool.” He hesitated, and Crowley knew he had a question. 

“What’s wrong, Adam?” 

“I just had a question for you. How do you know when someone’s the right one?” Adam fidgeted. “Like, I love all my friends, right? And I don’t know if I could ever just choose one, and what if I got it wrong?” 

Crowley was probably the least qualified person to answer the question and puzzled through it. What should he tell him? Was there a specific way to answer a question like that? 

“It might be scandalous, but I don’t think there is a ‘right one’.” Crowley shrugged. “There might be a lot of wrong ones in the end, but...relationships, marriages, all of that isn’t so much about finding the perfect mate. It is about choosing someone and learning how to live alongside them, partner with them, love them even when you don’t like them.” 

Adam frowned and his brow furrowed. “Huh.” 

“You’re young. You have all sorts of time to figure out your path. And maybe you won’t have one person, but rather a pack to love. It is all sort of messy, and I don’t think there’s any one prescribed way to go about relationships.” 

That seemed to light Adam up from the inside out. “Cool.” He grinned. “Thanks, Mister Crowley. I hope your secret mission goes well tonight.” 

“Me too, Adam. Me too.” He watched the pup run off through the garden, back toward the village. 

Later in the afternoon, he slipped into Aziraphale’s office, smiling at Aziraphale’s back. He was hunched over the desk, glasses slipping down his nose, peering through a magnifying glass at a text. 

“Find anything interesting, angel?” He walked up behind him and set his hands on his shoulders, rubbing them, then digging his thumbs into tense muscle. Aziraphale groaned and set the magnifying glass down. He leaned into the touch, letting his head fall back to rest against Crowley’s belly. 

“Hardly. I was looking into a rather terrible attempt at a book binding job. The stitches in this old tome are awful. I’m going to have to redo them.” 

“I suppose your client should be glad they found you, hm?” He continued to rub Aziraphale’s shoulders, moving to the base of his neck to knead. “Can I take you away from your work?” 

“Oh?” Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open and he peered up over his glasses at Crowley. “I suppose so. I think I’m just about done for the evening.” He pulled away from Crowley and stretched. 

“Wait, stay sitting for a moment.” Crowley reached into his pocket and produced a black bandanna, which Aziraphale side-eyed. 

“And what is that for?” 

“Oh, you know, I might have a surprise.” He grinned. “Let me blindfold you.” 

Aziraphale laughed, looked a bit nervous, and then nodded. “Yes, alright.” 

He stepped back up behind him, let Aziraphale remove his glasses, and then settled the blindfold over his eyes. “I suppose I could have let you get down the stairs first…” 

“You’re a menace.” 

“Guess you’ll have to really trust me, now.” 

“If I take a tumble down the stairs and crack my head, I want you to know it will be your fault.” 

“Oh hush, angel, I won’t let you fall.” He laid a hand on Aziraphale’s arm and led him to stand. Together, they made their way out the door and down the hall. 

“That’s right,” Crowley encouraged as they made their way down the stairs. “One step at a time.” 

He would happily admit he enjoyed the way Aziraphale clutched his arm anytime he was uncertain. They did eventually make it downstairs and out the back doors onto the patio. He stilled Aziraphale. “I’m going to remove the blindfold now.” 

“Alright.” 

Crowley lifted the fabric from Aziraphale’s eyes and let him blink and adjust to the light. Then he heard a soft gasp. “Oh, Crowley.” 

Crowley put his arm around Aziraphale’s waist and pulled him to his side, kissing his temple. He’d decorated the patio. Redone it, really. With stand alone tresses that were decorated with ivy, hanging glass bowls with tiny lit candles in them, and he’d dressed up the patio table with a tartan tablecloth. 

It wasn’t exactly  _ warm _ out, but it wasn’t raining, which was a blessing in spring. The lights swayed from the frame of the patio cover as a light breeze rolled by. On the table were salads that Crowley had prepared with ingredients from their garden, topped with crisped chicken that Madame Tracy had prepared. 

“Did I miss a holiday? An anniversary?” Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley. 

“Nope.” He put emphasis on the ‘p’. “Do you want dinner first, or the reason first.” 

“Crowley. That’s an impossible choice.” 

“Dinner, then.” He led Aziraphale over to the table and pulled out a chair for him. Aziraphale gave him a once-over and a little smile that held a lot of promises, before he sat down in his seat. Crowley sat across from him. 

“Oh, are these Mrs. Young’s pear tarts?” 

“Yes.” He grinned. 

“You really do spoil me, my dear.” 

“Not as much as you spoil me, angel.” 

They talked about idle things, Crowley watching the swinging lights cast shadows over Aziraphale’s face. A year and a half later and he wasn’t sure he could be anymore in love with the man across from him. He bumped their feet under the table and Aziraphale gave him a roll of his eyes and bumped him back. 

Dinner and dessert were easily polished off. 

Then, they sat and listened to windchimes somewhere in the yard, holding hands across the table and the mess of dishes. Butterflies went wild in Crowley’s stomach as he knew his moment was coming. 

“Aziraphale?” 

“Yes, love?” Aziraphale glanced at him. 

“Marry me.” 

Aziraphale laughed, startled, and then paused and seemed to take the words in. “Oh.” 

“You…” Crowley sighed and let go of his hand so he could come around the table and sink onto one knee. Then he took Aziraphale’s hand again and turned it over, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You are amazing, and kind, wicked smart, and a bit pretentious sometimes, but I like it. I like every bit of you that you have shared with me over this year and a half and I know I’ve said it before, but I’d choose you again. And again. I’d choose you forever. So I’d like it if you agreed to marry me, and we can do it properly this time, with our friends, our pack…” He trailed off, not sure what else to say. “I love you.” 

“Yes, Crowley. One hundred times, yes.” Aziraphale tugged on him and Crowley stood and then leaned in, his hands on the arms of Aziraphale’s chair. He was guided into a kiss, warm and sweet, and when Aziraphale licked into his mouth he could taste the remnants of wine and pears. “I love you, too.” 

They barely managed to get the dishes inside and the candles snuffed out before they were up the stairs and in their den. Aziraphale’s hands were on Crowley’s buttons, undoing him, kissing every bit of revealed skin. Crowley tried to do it in return, but his hands were batted away as he was pushed to the edge of the bed. Aziraphale sank to his knees, nuzzling the bulge in his underwear, before he mouthed at it. 

“Shit, angel,” Crowley huffed a laugh and laid back, fingers curling in the bedding. “Don’t you at least want to get on the bed?” 

“No.” Crowley’s underwear weren’t tugged off, merely down, and then Aziraphale licked him from base to tip, rubbing his tongue against the underside of his cock. Crowley moaned and did his best not to arch up, even when Aziraphale took his cock into his mouth and slowly sank down around it. 

“Fuck, Alpha.” Crowley whacked the bed with an open palm and whined. Aziraphale’s mouth was hot and sinful. The tilted his head so the tip of Crowley’s cock would rub against the side of his cheek and it was heavenly. Then he was edging down Aziraphale’s throat and he couldn’t hold back his thrusts anymore. He pushed into the heat of him, whining, the pleasure and tension already coiling and ready to spring. 

He came with a shout down Aziraphale’s throat as Aziraphale swallowed around him. Then, boneless, Crowley panted and stared up at the ceiling. Aziraphale tucked him back in his pants. 

“Fuck.” Crowley wasn’t sure there was any other word for it as he lay tingling on the bed. Aziraphale chuckled and soothed his hands along Crowley’s thighs before he stood up and then crawled onto the bed over him. He leaned in and stole a kiss, then pulled back and gazed down at him. 

“It was a very good proposal,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“Apparently.” Crowley snorted, then let his eyes trail down to the tent in Aziraphale’s trousers. “And what would you like?” 

Aziraphale was thoughtful, trailing his fingers along Crowley’s chest, going down to tease at a nipple. “Do you remember the first time we were together?” 

How could he forget? He’d been on fire for Aziraphale, turned on by his Alpha defending him that he knew he needed to be close to him. He smiled, realizing what Aziraphale meant. “I don’t know how you could like my thighs so much.” 

“Hush and get undressed.” Aziraphale patted his bare thigh. “I like every part of you.” 

Aziraphale stripped off all his clothes, and Crowley squirmed out of his underwear. He crawled back into the nest and settled on his side, waiting. Soon enough, Aziraphale’s steady warmth settled behind him, his back pressed to Aziraphale’s bare chest. 

“Leg up, love,” Aziraphale said beside his ear. Crowley complied, shuddering when cold lube was rubbed between his legs. “Sorry. I should have warmed it first, I’m a bit impatient.” 

“S’fine, you’ll warm me up soon.” 

“That I will.” Once Crowley was appropriately slick, Aziraphale guided his cock to lay against Crowley’s thigh. It was hard and warm, the skin velvety, and Crowley lowered his leg down to capture Aziraphale’s cock between his thighs. He flexed the muscles, enjoying the soft gasp it pulled from Aziraphale. 

“Very good.” Aziraphale tossed the slick somewhere and smoothed his hand down Crowley’s chest and belly. He spread his fingers out there and began to rock forward and back, fucking his thighs. It was easy enough to relax into the motion, and it reminded Crowley not only of their first night doing this, but of Aziraphale in the midst of rut, holding him just like this, pressed inside and filling him. 

“Alpha,” Crowley gasped, his head pressing back to find Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale hummed and laid kisses over his jaw and neck. His thrusts were steady, unhurried, and Crowley relaxed into the rhythm. It wasn’t long, though, before Aziraphale tensed behind him and buried his face in his neck, making desperate noises. 

“That’s right, Aziraphale, come for me, yeah?” Crowley flexed his thighs again, reaching back to lay a hand against Aziraphale’s arse and guide the thrusts. They became frantic, and then with a growl Aziraphale spilled between his thighs and onto the bedding, continuing to work his hips as he shuddered against Crowley’s back. 

Then, he went still. Crowley smiled and squeezed his arse before he brought his hand back around to the front. Aziraphale’s breath was searing against his neck as he came down from the high. 

“You’ve made a mess.” Crowley smiled to himself as Aziraphale snorted against his neck. 

“Don’t move too much. I’ll get something to clean you up.” And just like that, Aziraphale slipped away from him and Crowley hated it. Without Aziraphale behind him, he was cold, and damp, with a mess between his thighs. Thankfully, he didn’t go far, and it wasn’t long before he returned with a warm cloth. Crowley allowed him to guide his legs apart as he was cleaned up, the sheets given a quick wipe, before Aziraphale disappeared again. 

When he returned the next time, it was to nestle up against Crowley and stay. He tugged one of Aziraphale’s arms around his middle and Aziraphale complied, nuzzling Crowley’s shoulder. 

“I love you, Aziraphale,” Crowley murmured, running his hand up and down what he could reach of Aziraphale’s arm. 

“I love you too.” Aziraphale kissed him below his ear. “When should we start talking about wedding planning?” 

“Ngk.” Crowley shook his head. “Not tonight.” 

“But your proposal was so elegant...it really put me in the mood.” Aziraphale’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. 

“It put you in some sort of mood, that’s for sure.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Let’s get through Hastur and Ligur’s wedding first, yeah?” 

“Oh, well, if you insist.” Aziraphale settled, warm and steady as always. “Can I tell you what I’ve been envisioning, though?” 

Crowley hummed and closed his eyes. “Of course, angel.” 

“Lovely.” 

As they lay in their nest, surrounded by the things they both loved best (including one another), Aziraphale’s soft voice spoke of a warm autumn sun, and a chocolate cake, with more of the candle lit glass lanterns, and their friends surrounding them. He teased that Beez would likely insist on wrestling during the reception, and that Newt and Anathema would love watching it. 

“And most of all, there you would be. Handsome as always.” 

And at 23 years of age, Anthony Crowley was ready to be married. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it folks. This fic has been such a labor of love and I have met so many wonderful people. In the midst of chaos, this fic has been a little bit of consistency for me. I have read every comment, loved everyone who reached out, and I really enjoyed writing this. You all are amazing. Thank you for sticking with me through this. 
> 
> To those who are finishing this after binging the whole thing? Take a break! Stretch! Thank you for reading. 
> 
> I hope I told a good story. I can't wait to continue it in an eventual sequel and, perhaps, a few one-off ficlets. 
> 
> For now, I'll be taking a little break. The next time I'll be posting a story will be **June 4th** when the first chapter of my new Good AUmens event fic will be posted. I'll be updating it weekly after that. It will be a shorter fic, but I'm loving it and I hope you all will enjoy reading it! My birthday is June 1st, so this is almost a little gift for myself C: Because sharing my work is as enjoyable as seeing people's reactions to it!
> 
> Anyway. I hope you will come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/likelyshovels) and [tumblr](https://waffleironbiddingwar.tumblr.com/) in the meantime. I love chatting with folks. 
> 
> And, finally: I LOVE YOU! <3 Be well.


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